First Person Plural
by DarkeStar
Summary: UNDER REVISION. As of March 2007 story being completely revised. All revised chapters marked with edit. New things added to every chapter, skimming suggested. Keywords: Heero, Duo, yaoi, multiple personality. See notes for additional information.
1. Story Info EDIT

Title: First Person Plural

Author: Darkestar

Status: Incomplete because of edit

Category: Psychological; Action; Other Assorted

Spoilers: None

Sequel/Season Info: One side story set in future: It Means He's Mine (may not be posted at this time).

Rating: R

Warnings: Expect language, minor violence, mentions of past abuse, mentions of self mutilation, etc.; Each chapter will contain warnings if contents of chapter make it necessary.

Summary: Duo has been hiding a secret from his fellow pilots but it all comes to a head with the extension of a mission and an unexpected and pain-triggering event during an already strained assignment. Now Heero is learning things about his friend that he never knew. With truth they move hesitantly towards a romantic relationship in the midst of great struggles externally and internally.

Disclaimer: I do not own them (the characters, environment, concept) but I do own the plot and the ideas herein and any original characters I may add.

Notes: Given how long this story has been around, no reason not to just out and out say it. This story is about Duo having multiple personalities. But at the same time I like to think that while the backbone of the story is about Duo having multiple personalities, and therefore much of the story revolves around that, that the story isn't actually _about_ that. I like to think this story is about two people who realize that they could mean more to each other than they realized if only they have the courage and strength to move forward. I like to think this story is about overcoming personal obstacles and not allowing a condition to keep you from living. I like to think this story is a little something about simply being.

Many people may find that this story isn't very realistic in that someone with multiple personalities would be that deeply involved in a war and in such a position as a Gundam Pilot. I would like to say to those who feel that way: I agree with you. But at the same time I don't think that that takes away from the reality of the story I'm trying to tell, a story about simply being despite the obstacles in your life. And also, I think it must be said that while being a Gundam Pilot may be an extreme, living a life isn't. There are more people out there with multiple personalities than most people realize, every day people you'd never even expect - doctors, lawyers, artists, teachers, etc. This is a little something like a tribute to these people.

Notes 2: I finished this story at one point and then realized that it wasn't very good in its finished form. I left out important details and skipped over chunks of time without explaining that the time was passing. So I took it down and began to revise it back in July of 2002. And then I lost interest in fanfiction, and then in writing, and then in writing fanfiction. But it's coming back, and so is this story. New readers, enjoy. Old readers, I think you'll find this story is better for the revision and long absence. I think I've improved as a writer during my time away. I hope you think so, too.

Reposted March 2007 with some editing.

Additionally, I now have a fanfiction yahoo group. You can find the url for that in my profile. This site will eat it if I try to put it here. There's a good chance that new chapters and tidbits will be posted there before I get around to messing with this site.

Additional Comments: A review recently pointed out several things to me that I feel need mentioning.

Timeline: While I try very hard to make this story seem as though it _could_ fit into the actual canon timeline I fully acknowledge that it _can't_ for more reasons than just the multiple personality. I realize that the pilots are not called together as a group for a mission of this kind at any time during the canon and that this is a fanon created idea. This story is in fact an AU, one I want to have seem _almost possible_ but that I and I hope my readers realize is not _actually possible_. Along this same line of thought the reviewer expressed feelings about how I plan to keep it within that _almost possible_ and have the events at the end of the first conflict still occur more or less, i.e. Heero and Duo's relationship/close friendship and the lack of it and Heero's actions and decisions regarding Relena. To that I say "just keep reading "

Book Inspiration: I have also failed to give credit where credit is very much due. The title for this story, the inspiration for the story and the guiding force behind how this story unfolds is not of my own making. The book by the same name: First Person Plural by Dr. Cameron West. I fully urge readers to check it out, and I claim very little of the tale I'm weaving and instead bow to the book. In a way you could _almost_ say it's a crossover of the book.

Thank you Terra for your thoughtful review.


	2. 00: Prelude EDIT

Warnings: None that need stated.

AN: (Edited March 07)

* * *

Prologue

* * *

How long is it for?

A few weeks.

Can we last that long?

We're going to have to.

It's getting loud in here.

I don't want to go.

Everyone, just stay calm

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

It's not your decision.

It's never anyone else's decision! It's all about you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you…

An effective unit has a leader.

Now you sound like that scowling gun toting psycho.

We'll be fine, no need to panic.

You want panic I'll give you panic.

Be careful.

NO! DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO

No.. No, don't do that…

Oh shit, here we go again.

No, stop, No.

"No!"

Blood.

Crimson splatters on the side of an off white sink, dripping down in slow, meandering paths toward the drain, threatening to spill onto the faded tile floor.

Despite the harsh, ragged breathing the steady drip of blood hitting the slowly growing puddle sounded loud in the small, too small bathroom. The untouched arm came up, hand pressing to the quivering mouth, violet eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid the tears that nonetheless forced themselves past.

Pain, horror, shame, fear…

"Boys don't cry, boy's don't cry, boy's don't cry.I don't cry, I won't cry…"

You are crying. I always make you cry.

"Shut up, just shut up."

A ragged and silent sob shook the slight body and Duo dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the cold edge of the sink.

…Blood… everywhere…


	3. 01: Settling In EDIT

Warnings: Slight language.

AN: (Edited March 07)

* * *

Settling In

* * *

_I'm different._

I glance over at Heero.

He's across from me, studying the nails he's driven into the wall with a critical eye. He has one of those bulletin corkboard things leaning against his legs. It seems strange to me, imagining him going into a store and buying one, to all appearances your average teenager who's going to put up pictures of supermodels, maybe, or girlfriends. Or maybe they'd think he's more of the angst-ridden creative type, putting up tortured poems and stories…

I blink and shoo the imaginings away before they completely take over. Hard to say where that sort of thing will lead and it's the last thing I need right now.

He's crouching down, looking more relaxed now that the nail alignment has met his approval. I'm vaguely amused by this as he lifts the board carefully and places it evenly on the nails, and then steps back to inspect his handiwork. He relaxes a little more and the small box of nails and the hammer are placed back in the toolbox at his side. Heero certainly does seem to be prepared for everything.

_I'm hiding something about myself._

I look back to the window, trying to keep myself from getting lost in my musing. This is not the best time for me.

The ground outside is covered in a light snow, a white blanket reaching back to the thick green trees. The snow seems so perfect resting against the ground, the waning light of the sun making it reflect just enough to catch your attention, but softly so, not blinding. Out of the corner of my eye I pick up the tracks we made getting to the cabin, first of the jeep and then our feet as we moved up to the steps. That breaks the perfection. I look away, focusing on the curtains for a moment.

_Lack of perfection._ _The human condition. And here I am, with my secret. Yes, even bigger than being a Gundam pilot._

I look again to Heero.

He's placed neat stacks of papers on the small coffee table in front of me, covering most of its area; the majority of them printed sheets or diagrams. I'm surprised I didn't notice all the movement. I need to make a better effort of paying attention to my surroundings. It's too easy to let my guard down around Heero.

For the moment he's turned away from me, facing the board again. He's hanging something that looks like some sort of heavy cloth. As I watch him I absently reach out and adjust one of the stacks of paper, lining it up neatly with the others instead of at that ever so slight angle to the nearest stacks. My hand does this very carefully (but casually, always casually). Just the lightest of taps. More of a fingernail twitch. I know from experience that anything more can throw it in the other direction, or the action might touch another pile and then that piles out of place, and then suddenly I'm on my knees, shuffling and placing the papers over and over again until I'm exhausted from the mental effort.

Best not to think about papers and perfect edges. Best not to think about edges. I think I need a bit of a nap.

Hands clasping together, oh so carefully, fingers interlaced just so, arms held against the body just the right way, casual, always casual, but careful. I look away from whatever fiddling Heero is doing. The window seems a lesser evil at the moment.

_The other pilots don't know. Probably don't even suspect. I'm just neurotic. Nneurotic Duo Maxwell. Just fine by me. Just fine by me and the circus. We're all good. _

I feel Heero's eyes on me, questioning even though I know if I turn and look they'll still be cool and detached. I know that look; I've seen it on my own face in the mirror. And I know what he's thinking. Or I have a rather good idea of what it might be. He's wondering why I'm not chattering away, why I'm not bugging the hell out of him, touching and talking and 'helping' out. It's out of character. But today I'm out of character.

_Something wrong with me..._

Heero crouches by the table – I look over at the sudden nearness – and he picks up one of the stacks of paper, studies it for a moment, and then he stands smoothly and moves over to the board. Carefully, precisely, he places the papers up in some predetermined order, making efficient use of the limited space. I'm thankful for small favors. He repeats the process for each small stack of papers, and then begins to unroll the two maps he brought. Curious, I turn fully to watch this, swinging my legs out to settle squarely on the worn but well-kept carpet. Ah. The maps go onto the cloth, pinned in every 3cm or so.

_Definitely something wrong with me._ _Quite seriously. Just not saying my mood is off or that I'm having a bad day and can't figure out why, though unfortunately that happens to be true as well for the most part._

Heero checks his watch and then goes to work on the second map, repeating the process undertaken with the first. It's actually oddly fascinating to watch.

_I can think of more fascinating things though._

"Duo."

I blink at him.

"Don't just stare at me stupidly. Do something."

I sigh and pick up the duffel bag that I've brought with me, kicking the smaller second one between my feet as I walk down the hall. A part of me protests at this action, the haphazardness of it, but I ignore it as best as I can. The first door comes up on my right, worn with age and partially open, revealing the room inside.

I push the door open fully, reaching out to flick on the light. In the center and against the wall there's a bed, covered with a faded dark blue blanket. Beside that stands a small wood table, a lamp sitting on it and off to the side. There is a desk almost directly across from me, pushed against the wall, a fine layer of dust covering its surface. Likewise, a fine layer of dust covers the surface of just about everything in the room.

Ignoring the evil dust for the moment I place the large bag directly inside the room by the door, against the wall, nudging the bag with my foot to line it up the best I can. That done I place the second bag atop the first. Very important, that.

The single window beckons and I cross to it, trying not to study the room any more than I have to at the moment. I pull the shade slowly, pleased when it moves smoothly. Even more pleasing is the sight that greets me through the more or less clean glass – and hey, that's pretty damned pleasing too at this point. Fresh, unmolested blankets of white stretch out to the trees edging the property. Absolutely lovely. I eagerly push the window up, grinning when it moves up just as smoothly as the shade. The air is fresh and cool and crisp and I spend a good minute or more just leaning out the window, breathing in deeply. There's just something amazing about snow.

The grin settles into a quieter smile when I pull back. Despite the drop in temperature in the room I leave the window up. Hopefully the closed up smell and taste of the room will have faded by the time I'm chilled enough to close the window.

Feeling refreshed and readier to tackle the room I turn back to it.

First order of business is the bed. Need a nice 'safe' place to start with.

When the jacket comes off I shiver a little but hardly pay it any mind. I set into the room almost eagerly. Mustn't be too happy with cleaning, who knows where that'll go.

It's a rather systematic process at this point. Everything currently on the bed gets rolled up into a more or less neat little bundle that I place on the carpet at the foot of the bed, pillowcases folded atop sheets folded atop the blanket. Really, the sheets were probably fine, no naughty little dust monsters or worse waiting to attack, but logic so rarely factors into the life of Duo Maxwell. I smile a little bit more as I set the last of the pillowcases atop the little cloth tower I've been building.

After that I lift the edge of the mattress, this as silent and efficient as every other action taken thus far. Pulling the mattress toward me I slide it back some on its frame, not looking down to see if the frame shows the floor under the bed or not. With ease I lower the mattress down onto the other side and push it in place. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. It's just that easy.

I pause a moment as I move to pick up the smaller bag, listening closely for any sounds out of the ordinary. Nothing from the Heero front, aside from the occasional little rustle of paper. Fabulous.

The little combination lock on the bag is easily dealt with and soon enough I've got it open and I'm able to remove several carefully wrapped packages from within. These are placed atop one another over my jacket, in an order that could only make sense to me, and I set to opening them carefully with my pretty little pocketknife. I do so love that thing. All rainbow pretty. But that's beside the point.

What comes out first is a cotton liner for the mattress. But only after making sure my hands are clean enough to actually touch it. Cotton liner goes in place, tucked in nicely, followed by nicely soft midnight blue sheets, tucked in just as neatly and fastened with handy little sheet fasteners. That done I decide the other things can wait until I shake out the pillows. They ought to be fine, having been covered by the pillowcases and the blanket. But only once given a proper shake.

Picking each up by the corner I move from the room quietly, walking directly past Heero without even glancing over. From the corner of my eye I see him look up when I come in, and know his eyes track me from one side of the room to the other to the door. I leave the door open and move down the three steps of the porch to give the pillows a couple fierce shakes. I head back in, tap the door closed with my foot, and head past Heero again. Can't imagine what's so interesting that he hasn't looked away from me since I came out with the pillows. I'd think this is one of the more normal things he'll have seen me do. I can't help but toss a grin over my shoulder at him as I disappear down the hall toward the room I've claimed.

But once back in the room I silently close the door and twist the lock, not grinning any more. Not sure why his interest is suddenly so unsettling.

_Like some dirty secret, huh?_

I swallow, nervous and unsure bubbling up inside from somewhere. Once the pillows are carefully on the bed I find myself rubbing my palms against my pants until I can feel the burn of the continuous energy creating heat friction. I force my hands to stop. My arm hurts again, a dull throbbing ache, but that I ignore as well as I set about pulling pillowcases on pillows and arranging pillows on sheets.

Less than two minutes pass and I have the bed made again. I've searched the closet looking for a blanket that's been hidden under others long enough that dust hasn't touched it, given it a good shake all the same, and that's been added to my masterpiece. And with that done it's fine to settle both bags on the bed.

A safe zone.

I perch on the edge of the bed, sighing, weary again. Not even the crisp, clean air of the room can keep me pepped up. Every move is made natural to me through habit – stripping, changing, cleaning – but I never enjoy doing this work. _I_. But I have little choice when times get like this.

None at all.

If I don't the consequences will be harsh.

But harsher than the action.

Yes.

I push away from the bed with a will not my own, wanting nothing more than to leave the room and settle myself elsewhere, doing nothing at all. If my arm had been hurting before, now I'm outright miserable. Every little odd movement sends a little shock of pain down my arm. It'll only get worse.

Too deep. Too soon. This is dangerous.

I force away those thoughts as I move to the desk, surveying its top. Keep moving, that's the key. Once momentum has me it'll get itself done.

A light film of dust covers it, telling the tale of several years gone by without a visitor to settle something upon its surface. I step away from it, to the door, and from there my path takes me to the kitchen. There should be something in the small room that I can clean with, and I am rewarded with a cupboard devoted entirely to cleaning supplies.

I wish that didn't bring such relief.

Pulling out the few I can carry I pass Heero. I have his undivided attention now, which is just freakishly ironic. All those times I've tried so hard for it and when I actually want his indifference I'm suddenly the most interesting thing around. I ignore it for the moment, intent on getting the cleaning things back to the room, but when I come back out to locate the vacuum – yay, hall closet, people are so predictable – I can't ignore his staring any longer.

I give him my most annoying, cheerful, unrepentant grin. Yes, I practice them. "I spilled something."

"All ready?" he asks, irritated, no doubt disgusted by that fact. Here not ten minutes and I've already made a mess.

If only he knew. Go me.

I force out a nod I know will make him avoid me, all insane energy. Works too. He looks away as I meander back down the hall and back to the room.

Still, even with my bit of well applied mania and the promising gleam of mischief I directed at him it's hard to say how long it'll keep him away. I finish up the room as quick as I can. Thank god there's so little in here, makes less cleaning, and soon enough everything that can be cleaned easily has been. Already the room looks more inviting, and there's not a trace of stale air left in the room. I leave the window up, though. I'm not quite shivering yet.

Besides, it's set up time. Smaller bag again. There's the beaten stack of mangas taken from a zipper baggy. Keeps them together and in a somewhat reasonable condition, especially should I find myself in some sort of sticky situation.

Heh, sticky. Marmalade and honey and caramel. Yeah. Now's not the time to start craving weird stuff.

Mangas. Followed by a video game from its own protecting plastic bag. These are pretty safe things, even Duo predictable at this point. They go on the beside table, beside the lamp. Next is the new notebook, as of this moment still unopened even. And the pens of course that go with the notebook. Pretty ordinary stuff at the moment so I go ahead and leave it out. The center of the bed, up at the head right between the pillows, is pride of place for the beaten and worn teddy bear that comes out next. He's a rather sad thing, a large patch on the stomach keeping the stuffing in and missing an eye. I'm still not sure where he came from; I just know there's no getting rid of him now that he's a part of Duo Maxwell.

Those items taken care of I bring out two books, one on some sort of marine science and the other a serious study on the possibility of extraterrestrial life. These go in the beside table's little cubby drawer. I prop a gun up against them, hidden from casual view. Not that anyone here would care, and not that anyone else would have chance to see it, but it's 'the way things go' and there's no point in breaking a habit that works.

And now for the most important thing. For me, at least. The CD player! It's battered and scratched, but it still works like a dream. I plop down on the bed with a little settling sigh, snap the headphones on and hit play as I lean back into the pillows, eyes closing.

That wonderful escape of music greets me and I slowly begin to relax, drowning out the commotion that is ever present. I think I just may be able to get that nap in.

//Sitting on the bed, or lying wide awake, there's demons in my head and it's more than I can take, I think I'm on a roll and I think it's kind of weak, saying all I know is I gotta get away from me//

I snigger at the CD in the player. Wonder who's trying to tell me something…

Just as I'm beginning to drift away comfortably, lost in the music, a loud knock on the door startles me from my peace. I jump, reaching out and smacking the CD player to shut it up, and then listen carefully just to make sure I'm not imagining it.

It wouldn't be a first.

It comes again, this time much louder. Or perhaps it was that loud to begin with and the music blasting dulled the sound.

I push the CD player aside and swing my legs over the bed, move to the door on socked feet.

No shoes allowed.

I open the door slightly, peek out, and I'm greeted by the special scowl that Heero seems to hold just for me. I widen my eyes slightly, not sure if I can trust my words to not betray me just yet, and give him a look of 'yeah, whadda ya want?'

"The other two are here. We're bunking together. I need to put my stuff away."

Dread settles as a block of ice in my stomach.

"What? The other two are in on this?" I ask numbly, mouth working as if it were stuffed full of cotton.

The usual hum in my mind has gone silent.

"Yes." Heero answers in that precise, clipped tone that he adopts when he feels that someone is ill informed by fault of his or her own.

I scowl, gripping the door tighter. I'm so not in the mood to deal with that shit on top of everything else. "Why wasn't I told?"

"You weren't sent the necessary information?"

Apparently not.

I echo the snarky thought. "Apparently not."

Obviously.

Duh.

How unorganized.

Heero eyes me for a moment. "Yes. A second part has been added to our directive. Two people can no longer carry out the mission. The time has extended, as well. We can expect a week here together. This isn't debatable and I already know you don't have anything else that you need to attend to that will interfere with the extended time. Would you open the door so I'm not standing in the hall with my bag?"

I swallow, the soft hum returning slowly. Right. I give a slight nod; hold a finger up to tell him 'give me a moment', and close the door before he can even frown, twisting the lock securely. I pick up the teddy bear and toss it into the small bag, eyes darting around the room to make sure that I've gotten the rest of the stuff that would seem out of character.

I wince as Heero tries the door, finally pushed past his patience with my actions. I move back over to unlock it and step away, toward the bed.

He comes in, scowling even more. I wonder if it was worth putting the bear away. So hard to be sure.

Which is the lesser of two evils?

I give a mental sigh.

Heero's eyes take in the room, the uncanny awareness of his surrounding remind me of a hawk stalking his prey. I try to look nonchalant, bringing the tip of my braid around to brush it lightly over my lips, looking up at the ceiling. Oh good, the ceiling is clean.

"Conference, now. You lack information you need. From now on I suggest you keep yourself better up to date." He tosses his bag on the bed and moves out of the room.

I stare after him long after he has gone, trying not to frown.

Sometimes I just want to smack him upside the head.

Sometimes I just want to poke him repeatedly in the forehead.

And sometimes…

Great, you've blown it. If anything goes wrong in the mission it's your entire fault now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Can't you do anything right?

"Shut up," I growl, glancing around the room one last time. There is tightness in my chest as I click off the light.

Damn it all. I don't ask for much. Just a little break.

Can we survive?

No. He fucked this one up, he did, he did, he did. Just sit back and watch it all tumble around us.

Why do you sound so happy about this?

"I said shut up."

Make me...

Can you make me?

No, you can't... and you know it.


	4. 02: A Long Day EDIT

Warnings: Slight language.

AN: Day 2, in cabin. (Edited March 07)

* * *

A Long Day

* * *

"Right, and so far everything appears to be leaning that way. Quatre, what was the weather report?"

The blonde head lifts slowly from the map, turning towards Heero's emotionless face. "The last report said light snow for the next two days and then a heavier storm Friday night, everything slowing down again to something more pleasant the following day."

"We must, of course, factor in human error. There are too many factors in a weather report for this region that are unknowable. I say we draw up three contingency plans and have those committed to memory in the event that something unlikely does occur." He shifts. "I have the mission objectives typed up and printed here for you. The changes have been penciled in, seeing as how I no longer have ready access to a printer."

Heero settles four brown folders on the tabletop. Judging by the size they can't contain more than five or six sheets of paper.

"Granted, everything seems rather cut and dry," he continues. "But it is always best to see things on paper. It would be best if these are burned tonight. We have a fireplace, and it should be used effectively. We may be too busy because of other reasons as the days move closer for us to remember to dispose of these. I'm sure everyone agrees that no evidence is the best way to go."

Kind of laying it on there thick, aren't you buddy?

Professionalism. One can never have enough.

And one can never have enough cleanliness either.

Sigh.

God, I need another nap. Or another room. Sleeping in the same room as a Heero is just not good for a Duo's mental well-being.

"Duo, have you decided yet?"

Decided? Decided what?

I tilt my head a mere fraction to the left and try not to look at him as if I have no clue where that question came from. I can only hope he will take the movement for a confirmation and not pursue it any farther.

"Have you decided?" He now sounds aggravated. "I need to know before we can go much farther on this. It is important. You would know that if you had taken the time away from your daydreaming to notice."

Quatre is now looking up at me, eyes curious and questioning. I swallow slightly and show them a grin. When in doubt, grin your ass off. "Yeah, I've decided," I lie through my teeth, hoping the answer is generic enough not to be off. "I'll go with what seems the best."

His amazingly cool cobalt eyes flicker a moment, then narrow, and his mouth drops down in a slight frown. I decide that that must be tolerable, that he's frowning, not scowling. "That's good. And what in your opinion is the best?"

If I didn't know any better I would think the guy is trying to bait me.

Maybe he is.

Nah, not Stoneface.

I wince inside and go for the gold of stupidity. "What you suggested."

He lifts an eyebrow and I give a weak laugh. Maybe I can pull this off as teasing if someone gets their act together and HELPS ME OUT!

If someone gets their act together? As if this can't be any of your own fault, right?

Obviously not.

I can't do anything; I'm pretty much as clueless as you for the moment.

Aren't you supposed to be omni knowing, the head cheese, the Big Man, -

"Duo." His voice is just sharp and cold enough to drag me back violently to the realm of the material and I blink at him in what I hope isn't a dazed manner, but something endearing. Obviously not by the look on his face.

Sweet holy hell, man, can't you just leave me alone?

He has a hand settled heavily on my shoulder, and he gives me another shake. I wonder if that's concern behind that mask or if it's simply annoyance. "Duo, I didn't suggest anything at all to you. I gave a choice," he states, hand still heavy and warm on my shoulder. It feels like its bearing me down, holding me in place, and I want to look away from his piercing eyes before he breaks the surface and sees something he shouldn't. But I can't.

Thank you, that's all I wanted.

A slightly disorienting feeling, being sucked away in a vacuum of thought, the distant words spoken as if underwater, and then I'm staring at him as he's withdrawing his hand, nodding, now seemingly perplexed.

"All right. You'll take the east entrance and leave by the north. Now that I have that I can work on the rest of the mission. After dinner we should sit down and talk again."

Quatre stands and yawns, holding a hand out to help Trowa up. Not that he needs it, I note. Then Quatre falls in step beside him, leaning in to murmur something about the importance of this base we're about to infiltrate.

I look over at Heero and see him standing by the map on the far right, trailing a finger up from one point marked with a tack to another. I stand up myself, stretching slowly until I feel the crack moving along my spine, and then head to the kitchen when Heero stops me.

I turn to look at him but his back is the only thing facing me, and he doesn't show any signs of turning as he picks up a pencil and traces a slow line to and around something. "This is our second day here and you're still as scatterbrained as you were yesterday. You explained that as travel fatigue, which I honestly feel isn't something one of us can afford to suffer from. But you've made it this far. I can't and won't believe that excuse today, though. As I told you yesterday I have to know if you can or can't do this by tomorrow morning. After that we may lose track of the other pilot, or he may be doing something else, or unwilling to work with us on short notice. I have to know what your status is."

Fucking crazy. Absolutely mental. Total basket case.

"I'll be fine."

Liar.

He turns at that to look at me. "You will be? Is that saying you're not fine now?"

"No, I'm fine now."

Pity you've never noticed. Pout

Cut it out!

"Good." He tilts his head marginally to the left to study me. "You didn't seem to sleep well last night; maybe you should just get some rest."

I blink at that, not quite expecting it, and then give a slight nod.

"Good." He turns back to the map again, picking up a pad of paper and a calculator and doing some calculation.

He likes us. He really likes us.

Hah.

I can feel a dull ache in my head that signals a headache coming. Yay for me. Out of all the medication I've brought with me its the painkiller that can be taken with little aftereffects and even less questioning. So! First stop, the kitchen to get a bottled water. And then off to the bedroom. A happily Heeroless bedroom, where hopefully a Duo can take a much needed nap. It's rough sleeping well when you can't trust that you'll behave while you're asleep.

Especially with such an obvious distraction sleeping right next to us all night long. Oh god, I just want to reach out and touch him and…

I sigh all on my own and take my water back to the bedroom. The small medicine bag is still in my smaller duffel and I pull it out carefully, glancing towards the closed but unlocked door. Damn, damn, damn, hate sharing a room on short notice…

I quickly get the medicine bag open and pull the bottles out, lining them up on the night table just to check and see what I have. The one I want is the farthest left and I tap out two small pills to knock back with several swallows of water. I put the pill bottle down and study the others lined up on the table.

It would be so easy…

There's whispering in the back of my mind.

Risperdone. To block nerve receptors and slow down the body, making messages between parts sluggish. Serax. Cuts back on anxiety levels. Zoloft. Happy pills. Ambien. Sleeping aid that doesn't so much as help you into a gentle sleep as bash you over the head with it repeatedly.

It would be so easy, maybe take a little Serax, help me relax a little, or one Risperdone, how would that hurt?

I settle the half full water bottle on the edge of the night table and swallow nervously, glancing at the door.

Heero would know. He's just not human.

Besides, it's not the wisest choice to be taking such heavy medication before an assignment like this, with so many people counting on you. What if something were to go wrong?

Something will go wrong. Let's just end your misery now, shall we?

I see in a foggy state my hand reaching out toward the Ambien, then stopping and hovering over the headache pills, before moving back over and finally picking up the Serax. It slowly dawns on me the danger that will come of this as I see my hands working awkwardly with the childproof cap, and then it's twisting off and falling on the bed beside us. Reaching for the water, tipping the medicine bottle over slowly.

I jerk back to myself and fling the bottle across the room, not caring that it's open. It's not enough. I fling the cap after it, and then the water bottle. My hands are shaking. Close call… close call…

There must be something that can be done.

After an uneasy moment or so I stand slowly, moving across the floor on uncertain feet and dropping to my hands and knees to pick up the small pills that have scattered on the carpet.

Careful, find them all, wipe them down before you put them back in the bottle. Look at the bottle, a prescription of 60. How many have you taken already?

He's taken 12.

All right, so how many does that leave to be found?

48.

Count them. How many is that? 36. Over there, under the closet door, two more. 38.

Is that one?

Yeah, how did it manage over there?

"I don't know," I whisper, plucking one of them from under the strap of Heero's bag. Sitting up to look around I notice the bag is open slightly and with a fearful glance at the door I pull back the edge and peer inside for a cursory glance. Nothing seems out of place.

Thick, thick carpet fibers. There's one imbedded in the carpet, better check the carpet. Better clean them good.

39.40.42.45. There, one under your palm. 46. Two more.

There's one, which makes 47.

I settle back on my heels after about ten minutes of careful and meticulous searching, which resulted in combing the carpet fibers with my fingertips, and plant my palms on my thighs, looking over the carpet.

"Are you sure it was only twelve?" I ask under my breath, thinking aloud.

Only 12.

My eyes settle on Heero's bag just as I hear his shuffling step in the hall. It sounds like he's stopped abruptly, like he's dropped something. There's another sound, cloth rubbing against cloth, as if he's moving his body differently than he had been. Yes, must have dropped something. I look over to the door, freezing, and then find myself rising slowly and putting the top back on the orange bottle, gathering all of the bottles up and dropping them in my bag, scooting the bag under the table. There's a damp spot on the carpet from my flung water bottle. Cap hadn't been on properly.

Cool water drips down my fingers as the bottle is picked up and there's no time to move so I try to make myself look natural lounging on the floor in front of the bed instead of on it, lightly sipping water. And that's how Heero finds me when he comes in.

"I thought I told you to take a nap," he remarks, settling on one knee to place something in his bag. I want to bristle at that remark but I find myself swallowing when he looks over at me. I hold the water up for him to see, as if it's the explanation as to why I'm not asleep yet, not that I've been on my hands and knees searching for little pills that have been scattered around the room.

With one still missing.

Heero stands and pushes his bag aside, then comes around the side of the bed and takes the water bottle. He places this on the table and glances in at the two books stacked inside, giving me a curious look.

"Hides the gun," I explain weakly, leaning over and gesturing. Completely unnecessary action. Really, I just want to make sure he can't see into the bag under the night table.

He makes a vague noise, staring at that damp spot on the carpet with a slightly puzzled frown. I pull on my innocent and clueless expression. He glances from it, to me and then to the water bottle several times before seeming to dismiss it.

And then with no warning I find myself lifted off the carpet and it dawns on me only as Heero has placed a knee on the bed and settled me down that he's just bodily picked me up and relocated me.

Guess he's serious about this nap business, huh?

Must be.

He pushes me down, dragging the sheet out from under me and then lightly tossing it over me, moving over to the blinds to pull them down. Oddly this darkens the room considerably. Or it seems odd in my state. The world seems to have dimmed, everything feels fuzzy. I realize he's speaking.

"I don't want you to be all scatterbrained tonight. The other two were pulled in at the last minute and despite everything you know more than they do. You even have some information that I might not, for varying reasons. Get some rest." His eyes narrow ever so slightly. "And if it is just overly excessive travel exhaustion, we'll know by tonight. And if it's not, we'll find a solution."

He gives a slight nod and pulls the door to the room shut, further darkening.

Heh. Have him find a solution to Multiple Personality. I'd love to see him try.

He's pretty close to perfect, he might be able to.

Isn't it called Dissociative Identity Disorder now? I thought it was. I could be wrong you know, but I thought it was.

Nobody's that perfect, not even spandex wearing psycho boy.

He's not wearing spandex right now; he's wearing jeans. They rather nicely sculpt his rear, I do feel.

That's only because it's cold.

One cannot fault practicality.

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

He's certainly not perfect, doesn't even know how to cover someone up correctly.

I sure didn't mind the picking up part.

Ara wants Heero, Ara wants Heero, Ara wants Heero.

"Oh god, don't any of you ever shut up?" I groan, rolling over onto my stomach and holding the pillow over my head. I know it won't shut them out. It's the thought that counts.


	5. 03: Dinner, a Call, a Journal EDIT

Warnings: Language.

AN: Day 2, in cabin. I make no claim that the information on lip reading and television vs. non-television is correct. (Edited March 07)

* * *

Dinner, a Call, a Journal

* * *

Someone's cooking.

You noticed that too, huh?

Mmm, smells yumful.

I yawn and hold the pillow tighter against my chest, staring at the black and white screen on the television. The sounds off, leaving me to try and read lips. Not that that's a problem, really, but I am somewhat distracted. Besides, reading lips on television is both harder and easier than in real life. Actors tend to enunciate a bit more whereas real people generally mumble, but on the other hand you can also generally pick up more body language clues from real people because they're just reacting, whereas actors are consciously projecting an image. Not to mention that you can get a better idea of volume and you might even hear the tone of voice from real people.

Boring. Let's find cartoons or something.

A mystery actually sounds quite charming.

Charming shmarming. Cartoons.

I highly recommend an educational program of some sort.

Yeah, you would. Cartoons!

I tilt my head to the left and pick up the remote, pressing the channel up button four times before it decides to work, and then when it does work it skips ahead nine channels. That gives me a start. "Let's just leave it there for a minute," I tell myself, setting the remote down.

I watch a woman in a gray-scale kitchen beam happily and pass out gray-scale watermelon to gray-scale children. They make some sort of gray-scale mess and she solves the problem with some sort of gray-scale paper towels. And after that the gray-scale harmony is restored.

I think I'm gonna be gray-scale sick…

I suppress a sigh at the muttered remark.

The commercial ends and replacing it is a talk show rerun from the far past.

Must be one of those oldie stations.

I think that term is only appropriate for radio, but I could be wrong.

I think they just call it Classic Television. Who's he?

Who cares, he's dead.

That's not a very nice thing to say…

Who cares, he is.

Wow, talk about a total lack of fashion sense…

…I'm not so sure this show is appropriate for younger viewers.

You slightin' me? Huh? You callin' me a kid?

If the shoe fits…

Don't mean shit.

Language please.

Language smanguage.

What's the topic, anyway?

"Dinner."

The topic is dinner? Huh, what?

No. That's the hottie-

-More like cold and stony-

Ahem. That's Heero telling us that dinner's ready.

Ah, dinner. Yumful food. Let's go.

I blink at the television screen a moment before picking up the remote and holding my thumb down on the power button. It flickers off, then on again, and then after a moment decides to flick off and stay off.

I push myself up carefully and head into the kitchen. Trowa's stirring something on the stove and Quatre is leaning against the counter next to him, chatting away amiably. When Heero spots me he nods to the table and I sink down into the seat nearest the door with a smile. Quick escapes, yay. No one seems to notice the smile after a few seconds so I don't bother wasting the energy.

"You feeling any better?" Quatre asks kindly.

Hate feelin' like a freakin' sicko invalid…

Oh yeah, we feel great. Like we just had an encounter with a Mac truck.

Mac Daddy truck!

…I will strangle you in your sleep if you utter that phrase ever again.

Mac Daddy truck! Nyah! Like to see you try it, boyo!

Please, please, _please_ don't encourage him…

I give Quatre a half smile. "Yeah. Just tired, ya know. Doin' great now. So, any chance of moving this thing along faster, maybe getting' us out of here by Friday?"

Heero's brow furrows. "I was hoping to wait until after Friday, make the move Saturday, and wait Sunday out as there is another big storm coming in. That way we have the before and after cover of two large storms, and then we can leave on Monday."

That's a full week though…

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Trowa remarks from the stove, turning with the pot and placing it in the center of the table. I glance inside to see some sort of rice and chicken mix thingy.

Heero settles into the seat beside me, Quatre across from me and Trowa settles across from Heero. I'm feeling a little ganged up on, even though there's no possible way we can sit at this table without three people having me in their line of sight. But, jeeze… Mr. Freakishly Observant and Mr. Completely Freakishly Observant to either side and then there's Mr. 'I feel everything extra special' sitting across from me.

Someone's a teensy bit sensitive today…

"So." It takes a moment for things to calm down enough in my head for me to dish out something onto my place without my hands shaking, and even then I'm not very steady. I do what I do best; I cover it up with distracting chatter. "I can deal with that. Just askin', ya know, 'cause that television out there totally sucks. I mean, really. Who makes black and white these days? Isn't it like a collector's item or something, to have black and white? Just not normal, is all I'm saying."

Heero eyes me a moment, though at least it's the usual 'there's something wrong with you' type eyeing and not the 'there's something really wrong with you' type he's been favoring me with the last few days. A few moments pass and then conversation starts up around me. I'm not really hungry. Well, I am, but it's the sort of pick at it and it'll slowly disappear hunger. But since I can't seem to summon the will to chatter mindlessly I have to take the next option and set to eating with a passion. Hard to talk when you're inhaling food. It's not going to be an easy night.

Not going to be an easy week, for that matter. I feel like a stranger in my own skin, and even though I know better I think I just might be going crazy. Little bit crazy. Smidgen. Smidget. Smogey. Smoogey. Smidgeymoogy.

…It's time to talk to Dr. Johnson.

Ya think?

So, the upside to devouring food that fast is that it guarantees I'm way done before they are. And the upside to being Duo Maxwell is that I can start to tap and hum and twitch and fidget and make faces and it won't take very long at all before Heero sends me away from the table until I can behave like a normal human being.

Hah!

Suits me just fine…

I meander casually off to the bedroom. Once there I ease down in the farther corner and listen to the muffled sounds from the living room and kitchen for several moments before dialing the number on the emergency cell phone I'd dug out of my bag. I bring the phone to my ear and hold it there with my shoulder, a hand cupping over the mouthpiece without thinking.

Got something to hide? Something to be ashamed of? Are you ASHAMED of us?

I wince as she answers her phone and I'm not sure where my voice has gone as I try to answer. Nothing comes out, I feel as if I'm sinking beneath water, there's a spot on the bed that's rumpled that I can't tear my eyes away from. I fall back somewhere and feel my body relax.

"Hello Doctor Johnson. I hope that we're not interrupting anything."

There's quiet on the other end of the phone for long enough that I'm fighting for control again. A losing battle the entire way.

Then she speaks. Her voice is soothing and calming, washing over me and making me feel safe and warm wherever I am inside. "Austin, no, you're not interrupting. I have half an hour left in my lunch break, actually. What's wrong?"

"Not much. Duo's just having some trouble keeping everything together and we're out right now. Doing thing. It's proving a bit stressful on him. On all of us, really. Yes, Doctor. On myself as well."

"I'll help you in any way I can. Can I speak with Duo, or does he not want to come out right now?"

"I don't know, hold on a moment." I claw my way up to my body, taking control again, and slowly the feel of the phone against my ear, the carpet beneath me, the wall against my back, drags me into reality.

"I'm here." My voice sounds thick to me.

"What's going on?"

Three simple words and that's all it takes for me to spill everything that's been in my head the past few days, leaving out only what I have to, such as the mission and several key details about location and schedule. I hate it that I can't even let her know when she can see me again, only that as soon as I can get there I'll be there. She spends a good ten minutes calming me down.

"Keep breathing, large cleansing breaths, relax your body. Stress will not help you right now; you need to be calm and focused. Calm and focused. Keep breathing." She gives me a couple minutes to breathe more evenly. "Now, you already know what I'm going to tell you, don't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"There are no 'buts' right now, Duo, and you should know that. You have placed yourself in a high-risk situation and you need to take all the necessary precautions to neutralize the situation as much as you can. You know what that means. Body time. Each day, for all of you, even if it's just ten minutes or so. The journal, every night. From what I gather you're in an enclosed, cramped environment. Despite that do not go out of your way, Duo, to make sure the others can't interact. You really need a support; someone who knows about you, but since you refuse to let anyone know then you absolutely have to make due with what you have. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sandra."

"I am trying my absolute best within the limitations you have set."

"I know, I know."

"No more cutting?"

"None."

Ring around the Rosie.

"Good. Can I talk to Meyer?"

I swallow, let myself focus in, fade back until everything around me becomes distant and fuzzy, and I know Meyer has come out.

"Meyer."

"Yeah Sandy?"

Pockets full of Posy.

"You're feeling neglected, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Ashes, Ashes.

"It won't be for long, but you can't separate yourself from the others with your behavior. They are what will help you through this. You know what will happen if you do, don't you?"

Meyer begins to chew on his thumb, frowning. Sniffling, he gives a slight nod, eyes fixing on the teddy bear sitting haphazardly in the bag beneath the table. "He put Toby in the bag. He's not allowed to be out cuz of Stoneyface."

"He did, did he?"

"Yeah."

"I'll speak with him about that before I go, if you promise me something."

"No!"

We all fall down.

I wince inwardly, despite only being able to half follow the conversation.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. That's not something that you can do! It ain't fair! I need Toby!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I will speak with Duo about Toby, and I'll pass the word on to Austin. But I still want you to try and do something for me. Can you do something for me? It's very important."

"What?"

"Don't hurt Duo. When you hurt Duo, you hurt yourself, and you hurt the others."

Meyer grows silent, rocking his body slowly against the wall, the only sound coming from him soft sniffles. "Will you try, Meyer?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. Now let me talk to Duo. I need to go soon, but you all probably need to go even sooner."

Meyer sniffles once more and fades back as I come forward, feeling lightheaded and disconnected. It takes me a moment before I can speak; getting things I need from others who had been closer and keeping better track of what was going on.

"Sandra?" My voice comes out a weak whisper. I hate that, I hate my weakness, I hate all this but I can't let it break control.

"Give Toby back to Meyer. I think you can see the wisdom of a little embarrassment over explaining his angry outbursts or another cutting."

I give the damn bear a sour look but tell her I'll let the bear out of the bag.

Cat out of the bag; cat out of the bag, cat out of the bag.

"Let me talk to Austin again. Does Bailey have anything to say? He's been very quiet."

"No, he's fine. He just says hello and he hopes you're having a good day."

"After you put Austin on go ahead and let him know that I'm having a fine day, and thank you."

I fade back again, a small shudder shaking my body, thinking somewhat disjointedly that we should have a conversation after this, all of us, in the journal.

"Yes, Doctor Johnson?"

"Keep an eye on everything, Austin. I'm counting on you to keep this together, and to keep everyone to their word."

"Yes, ma'am."

The door to the room opens and Austin sees Heero step in out of the corner of his eye, a puzzled expression on his face. I'm vaguely aware of this, aware enough to not want to be aware, but I can't quite pull myself into reality enough to do anything about it.

"Duo?"

Who else?

Who's there?

What, huh?

Austin lifts the phone higher to his mouth. "One moment if you please, thank you." He lets the phone drop, his hand over the mouthpiece. "Yes, Heero?"

"Discussion, living room. Who are you talking to?"

Austin's mouth shapes the first sound of 'our' before it turns into an "Ah." He gives Heero a little pointed smile. "Someone. I'll be out in twenty seconds."

Austin turns back to the phone, making sure his body language conveys quite clearly that that would be the end of it. "Thank you for waiting, and yes, I'll take care of that. I have to go now, goodbye."

Austin turns the phone off, in the process clearing the last number dialed, and he moves to drop it in the bag. The bear comes out of the bag as his hand retreats and is settled gently onto the bed. Heero doesn't even have a chance to lift an eyebrow before Austin gives him an icy look of warning, one that would hopefully be odd enough to distract Heero from the slight shudder running through our body.

It takes me a moment to gather all of this information and put it in some semblance of order before I give Heero a slight smile. "I thought we had something we had to do."

He gives a wary nod and slowly turns to leave the room.

I let him get several steps ahead before beginning to follow along in a meandering way designed to give me a few more seconds to pull myself together.

I feel vulnerable and empty right now. It's not a completely new feeling, but so far I've always managed to be on safe ground and away from others when the vast darkness settles in. Luck seems completely against me now, though, and I'm almost afraid something terrible is going to happen. It's so hard to keep the chaos in my mind from showing through my mask as I go through the motions expected of me.

But I manage a smile that no one questions, and manage to be just bothersome enough that everyone is slightly relieved by meetings end, even Quatre. And I gladly take my leave and retreat to the bedroom and Heero seems quite unlikely to follow my mania-tinged grin so I feel free to slump and fall away and let Austin prepare us for the inevitable conversation, only pulling me back after all is settled.

Blank white page, seems such a shame to write on it…

I prop the journal up on a pillow over my lap and then draw my legs up closer to me so that I won't be hunched over unnecessarily. Tapping the pen against my lips I try to ignore the sounds coming from the other parts of the small cabin. Quatre's soft peaceful laughter, the occasional resonance of Trowa's voice, the tap, tap, tap as Heero fiddles with this or that.

You know life is really sucking when Heero Yuy is being more social than you are…

The black pen drops to the paper and in neat, precise handwriting on the far right of the page, first line, goes the date, day, month, all spelled out, and then the time. I tilt my head to the left and watch as the pen drops down to the next line and begins to write. It's always disconcerting seeing my hand moving and not knowing what words will appear on the page.

Austin: Dr. Johnson seems very worried about us.

Ara: She's right, you know, continuing to do this is incredibly stupid. Most Multiples can't function in daily tasks, and here we are behind a weapon of mass destruction.

As if from another room I see my hands pushing the pillow aside and my body sliding down the bed until I'm resting on my stomach, the journal in front of us. Hey, wait, Toby. Pushing back up, reaching blindly for the bear, snatching its ear, settling back down with Toby held in one arm. He smells clean and fresh, despite all the travel and all that we had been through. One day I'll have to see what Bailey does to clean it.

Ara: Tomorrow Heero said that he'd be working on the heating system. It seemed to be dragging a little-

Duo: He did?

Ara: Yeah

Duo: When was that?

Austin: Directly after dinner, he made a mention of it offhand as we were leaving.

Duo: Oh.

Ara: As I was saying, he said he'd be working on the heating system, and I'd like to help out.

I am vaguely aware of nibbling on the end of the pen. One of Ara's nervous habits.

Austin: What all are we supposed to be doing tomorrow?

Meyer: I wanna build a snowman!

Austin: Given our position if a small plane is flying low enough then a snowman would be a sure sign of life in a place that should be mainly uninhabited. We would like to keep, well, they would like to keep this a secret. It usually works best.

Meyer: So?

Bailey: I'd like to cook dinner tomorrow night. It's so rare we stay somewhere that I can cook.

Duo: Now wait a minute, you guys. Close quarters with these three, their bound to notice that I'm acting a little strange if I-

Meyer: U r strange. Get over it. No, I take that back, your sichotic.

Duo: It's psychotic, and no I'm not.

Bailey: He's neurotic. If he were schizophrenic then he'd be psychotic.

Ara: Wouldn't that be a "we're neurotic"?

Duo: It might be nice to be schizophrenic. At least then I'd be the only one able to hear the voices.

Meyer: HEY!

Duo: Just kidding, just kidding. Sorry.

Meyer: You don't like us.

Duo: Not this again Meyer. Please.

Ara: He likes us just fine. It's just you he doesn't like.

Bailey: Hey, no need for that. We have enough problems as it is.

Meyer: Yeah, and here comes another. Maybe I should tell Heero you want to kissy kissy him!

A weight seems to drop from nowhere and settle on my chest – a feat considering I'm lying on my stomach.

I lift my eyes slowly to see Heero sorting through his bag, not three feet away, and I have a temporary struggle for control that results in the teddy bear flying to the right, the journal to the left, and my almost falling off the bed.

Austin ends up with control.

We look slowly over to Heero. I haven't the faintest idea what expression Austin has managed to stick on our face. I just notice from my distance floating place that Heero has an odd wide-eyed uncertain look on his usually impassive face.

Not every day someone has a fight with themselves, huh? Stick around, you'll see more.

Heero seems poised on the verge of saying something when an unexpected shudder shakes my form like a cold chill and distantly I'm aware of my body lifting to my knees, Meyer reaching and snatching the bear from Heero's hands, holding it tightly against his chest.

"Mine. Not yours."

Disaster, Disaster, Disaster.

Danger Will Robinson.

This is no time to be funny!

And the home of the brave…

Thoughts are flying through my mind too fast for me to notice half of them, let alone understand what's going on. The only thing I'm aware of, almost painfully so, is that very few of them are mine and very few of them are calm.

"I know that Duo. I was just picking it up," Heero says slowly.

"I'm not stupid!"

"I never said you were."

Meyer pulls the teddy bear closer and rocks backward to sit, hunching in on himself.

Crash. Burn. God, how am I going to explain this one?

Switch. Ara loosens his hold on the teddy bear and leans back on his elbows with a smile. "All right, just making sure," he says with a smile that makes my face hurt. "Thanks for picking him up." Wink.

Ara's fingers curl around the arm of the bear. Switch. Bailey looks down with a frown and begins to pick little invisible things from the fur, dropping them in an invisible pile on the bed.

"Duo?"

"Not right now, busy."

I never want to come back. Good, don't, we don't want you back. This is not the time. This is the perfect time!

I manage to claw my way back to the surface and smile weakly at Heero. "Go shower. I'll shower next. So I don't use all the hot water."

Good reasonable advice. Why's he not moving? Isn't that look so adorable on his face? What? A mix between fear and uncertainty and confusion? Adorable? On Heero.

I resist the urge to scream at him for not moving and Austin assumes control, taking care of it with a well-placed look. I could just imagine the thunder and lightening coming in to back it up.

Heero must too because he gives a little nod and picks up his toiletry bag and leaves without a second glance.

I take in a gasping breath of air, feeling tears pricking the back of my eyes, and Austin takes complete control, immediately calming my body. Leaning down he picks up the journal, closes it, settles it on the bedside table and places the pen over it. Picking up the glass of water from the table he brings out the Ambien and swallows two down. My protests are lost somewhere in the crashing orchestra of thought.

I'm a dead man.


	6. 04: Still Waters Run Deep EDIT

Warnings: Language. Some angsting

AN: Day 4, in cabin. (Edited March 07)

* * *

Still Waters Run Deep

* * *

"Do you ever get the feeling that there's this ultimate power that controls your life and It's just playing some sort of cruel joke on you?"

Heero glances over at me, then back to the papers that he's studying.

He seems wary.

Can you blame the guy? My god, after what happened two nights ago?

"What brought this on?"

I shift uncomfortably on the couch and lift my feet off the pillow settled on the coffee table, uncross the ankles right over left and recross them left over right before setting them down again slowly. I wiggle my toes a moment in the socks, regarding them in the distant place I had floated to about an hour ago, and then lean my head against the back of the couch, dropping a hand over my eyes. My skull feels as if it's expanding with each breath I take. The rustling in my mind doesn't make the headache any better.

Headache? Hah! Try migraine.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," I sigh softly.

The couch shifts but I don't have the energy to lift my head, and the others aren't curious enough – or stupid enough – to try.

"Duo." He pauses a moment. That's not good. It's rather serious when Heero is trying to be tactful. "Not to offend you, but the simple truth is that you don't look fit enough for this assignment."

He's not fit enough to live. Stop that, you're depressing me; you sure as hell aren't making him feel any better. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. How's the arm feel Duo? Hm?

"Shut up," I breathe, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Huh?"

"I said, fit enough. I'll be fine. Just fighting something off."

Or somebody.

Rar! Fight me! Fight me! I am victorious!

I hold in a tired sigh.

I can feel his eyes burning into me and I know he doesn't believe a lot of things I've told him or the others since we got here. It's not my fault that this came at one of the worst possible moments, or that I feel like shit right now, and that I'm having trouble concentrating on things.

This sort of stuff just happens. Cruising along fine and then things just start to crumble and it's all you can do to hold on for dear life and hope you're still you after the shake-up.

Life ain't easy being a multiple.

You bring it on yourself, you know. Leave him alone, I don't think now is the time. Hah, when's it ever the time, huh, huh, huh, huh? Never. I hate you. Meyer.

"Duo." My name comes out a soft sigh that seems to have some meaning that I don't understand. I don't want to know, I'm not in the frame of mind. I'm too fragile to take much more shit right now.

You're just hiding from everything.

Wouldn't you hide too?

Silence for a moment or so, but I can still hear the soft sound of Heero's breathing. It's calming, and familiar, even and regular, stable. Unlike me.

"We've had a small change of plans. Can you handle that?"

Oh shit.

Make way; make way, plane's about to craaash and buuuuurn.

…Sometimes I dearly wish Meyer were somewhere other than my head so I could soundly smack him upside his on occasion.

I force my eyes open to squint at him. "Like what?"

Tell me it's cancelled, tell me it's cancelled, _tell me it's cancelled_.

"We have an extra assignment."

Aw fuck.

So not only is it not cancelled but it invited a friend along to play. How nice.

Hey, let's pretend we're dead!

Shut the fuck up. Everyone. I'm flaky enough as it is, I will not space out right now.

Sheesh. Some people can be _sooo_ touchy.

Meyer! The last thing I need is for everyone thinking I'm crazy right now. …Even more crazy.

Hey, what's a little insanity between friends?

I will paint your room _pink_!

"Duo?"

I blink at Heero. Oh, yeah. That's right. Middle of a conversation. Spacing out is bad.

"Sorry. Yeah. Go on."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Heero." I make myself sound extra exasperated. "Have I ever, ever, _ever_ let anyone down during a mission?"

"…No," he says after a moment. "No, you haven't."

"No, I haven't. And I don't plan to start now, no matter how I might feel right at this particular moment."

He eyes me.

A quick mental check in confirms that Trowa and Quatre are out of the cabin at the moment. Good. I like Quatre.

I give Heero my best narrow-eyed 'you're seriously about to fuck up the completely wrong tree' look. Yeah, you know, I'm a nice guy. But sometimes shit's just got to be said if stupidity persists.

And stupidity persists. I think he's eyeing me even more closely now.

"Heero, why the fuck you always on my back? You don't give Quatre any shit. Hell, no one gives Quat any shit. Why the fuck am _I_ the cause for concern if Quat ain't?"

"What? Duo, why would-."

"Doncha be lyin' 'bout this," I snap, all pretense of keeping my 'street background' from my voice. Maybe it'll help make this point! "What the fuck you know about me, huh? Yuh trust him to keep to, and good as he is he's still a pampered lil' prince deep down. Doncha even try an' argue. So's 'bout damn time you started trustin' _me_. I do what I gotta do. 'Nuff said. I ain't gonna compromise shit. _Got it_?"

Heero gives me a slightly wide-eyed look. "Got it."

"Good!" I take a slow breath, trying to calm and pathetically grateful my lapse of control wasn't seized by one of the others. Damn but I hate losing my temper…

Heero's eyeing me with something new on his face. New understanding or something. But I really don't give a shit what it is. He's finally stopped eyeing me like I'm about to crack up and that's all I'd been hoping for. And hey, maybe he'll back off and won't notice that I _am_ crackin' up.

Wooo-hooo! Duo's got some backbone after all!

Meyer. Shut. Up.

"Eh." I clear my throat. Let's try some damage control now. "Not to blow up at ya, but, you _do_ look at me differently…"

He inclines his head slightly. "You're right. I do." His mouth quirks in a faint smile. "Though it's not because I doubt your abilities. I know you're capable. I'd be worried if we weren't on the same side. I just- you're different. I guess I'm trying to figure you out."

I feel myself flush slightly at the compliment. "Oh. Well."

I flush a bit more when the words really sink in. Last thing, absolutely last thing I need, is Heero trying to 'figure me out.' We're going to have to be very careful around him from now on…

He looks amused for a moment. "And you _have_ been a bit off since we got here. But it's your business. I'll back off and let you handle it."

"Thank you."

"So. Shall I continue explaining about this secondary mission?"

"Oh." The fading flush returns. I so forgot all about that. Damn. "Yeah. I'm listenin'."

He nods and watches me thoughtfully for a moment before sitting back a little. "Considering how sensitive the information is we're supposed to pick up it's been decided that it's probably for the best to attack almost on the heels of obtaining it to serve as sort of a distraction. The more time we have that information before they notice it missing the better." He stops and seems to be waiting to see if I have anything to say.

Heh. Sometimes passive voice is full of amusing suck. I wonder just how the 'it's been decided' came about, but I don't really care at the moment. I just give Heero a shrug.

"The attack is set to occur the afternoon following the information retrieval. Assuming, of course, that we go undetected during that." Heero lifts a brow slightly but I haven't the faintest idea what he's trying to communicate. I give him a 'sometime this century' look. "Trowa and Quatre will move out first to gather some materials. We'll follow them to set up for the bulk of the planned activity, but for this one we're just support. They will be inflicting the majority of the damage." He seems to pause a moment, but I can't be sure if it's a real pause or in my head. "Though the damage itself isn't planned to be too extensive, just enough to keep everyone busy for at least a couple days." I'm pretty sure this time it's a real pause. He looks like he's gathering his thoughts just a bit. "Our part is pretty simple. Move into the area, secure the location, remove ourselves once Trowa and Quatre are ready."

The hell did Heero just say…?

I study Heero a moment, trying to figure out why he took so long to say something as simple as 'Second mission set, afternoon after the first. Quatre and Trowa move out for supplies, we leave after to secure location, pull out to let Trowa and Quatre do their part. Minimal damage but large impact expected.'

I'm almost a little worried that I'm spacing out again and thinking things are being said that aren't…

No, he said all that. I think he's trying to sound more friendly or something, since you blew up at him just a couple minutes ago.

I'm bored.

Shut up, Meyer.

Can I have some chocolate?

You and your freakish like of chocolate…

People, give me some room here to think….

"And what exactly will we be doing?" I ask after a few more moments thought. My question silences the murmurs in my head and I can just imagine everyone pressing against the imaginary glass window in my mind that separates the visible me from the rest.

Meyer's making squished faces against it, of course.

"Like I said. Securing the location. There is the slight possibility that there may be some civilian activity in the area and it would be ideal that any possible death count include as few civilians as possible. I want this to be very select, but not obviously so. I think we can do that by choosing a time when there are likely to be less civilians in the area."

Austin pushes me to tell him that civilian casualty might actually be necessary to make it look less suspicious, but Heero continues as if he knows that there's something I'm about to say he doesn't want to hear.

I'm all broken up, not being able to say that. Really.

"The possibility of any civilian presence is actually rather weak because of the upcoming storm." He gives me a brief, odd look. "So that works in our favor."

Did he sound.nervous?

I think we're just tired. It's starting to feel jittery in here, like some paranoia is about to kick in. We need that like we need a bowling ball to the nose.

Enough. Excuse yourself, Duo. You need to go sleep your headache off. Assignment one is tonight, after all.

"Excuse me, Heero. I need to go sleep off my headache. Wake me if something important comes up or I'm not up in time."

Or not at all, that's an option too of course.

I'm too exhausted mentally to snap at Meyer for that; too exhausted and too inured to it. It's really a losing battle.

I push myself from the couch slowly and the full effects of my exhaustion seem to hit me as I move around the coffee table toward the bedroom. Those intense Prussian eyes are fixed on me as I walk unsteadily down the hall, and I can still feel them against my skin long after I've disappeared from his gaze.

He must be thinking of you.

I ignore Ara as I climb into the bed, hoping to find peaceful sleep. Without a Heero in the bed next to me it might actually be possible. I'm rather used to sleeping alone… well, physically alone. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to sleep alone mentally.

I let myself drift gratefully when sleep seems it'll claim me after all. But in that realm between sleeping and wake, where all guards are down and realizations come, inspirations strike, I can feel the others like I can't during the other hours. And they're not nearly as settled as I am. It drags up the painful guilt in me for my own selfish desires.

Damn…

Ara's longing for something more, for something of his own, for someone that wants him and needs him and loves him for who he is… More than I've ever known I feel an unfathomable yet resigned sadness for all these things that he's lost before he ever had the chance to have them. For the husky whisper of his name he will never hear.

And Meyer… I try to ignore the little shit so often that I sometimes forget what he is… the fear and pain and anger that radiates from him, the uncertainty and insecurity and sense of total weakness, of being able to do nothing while the world constantly pushes and pushes and pushes. I forget because of his hatred toward me, and his cruelty, because he hurts this body, cuts us, says things to people that I would never say that hurts them, and wounds me… sometimes it's only too easy to forget that Meyer is just a child. A scared, needing child that doesn't know of any other way to let me know that he's hurting inside but to act out.

Austin… it's not his pain that makes me feel guilty, it's not a torment that only he knows. It's the complete lack of all that. He's so detached and cold, able and willing to do anything to accomplish what must be done, without thought, no matter the sacrifice… It chills me to think he exists this way solely because of me. And I feel ashamed that I dare envy that powerful aura that settles over him. It's just a part of me, it's already me, it's just a me that I don't want to touch. He exists to make me comfortable…

And Bailey's hell… to exist in a world where nothing is ever as clean as it should be, as straight as it should be, as right and perfect and orderly. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to clean yourself and your surroundings, somehow you will always be dirty. Always dirty. You can never be clean again. Your world will always be tainted because something deep inside of you is tainted. And even though you know this isn't true, it's all in your mind, that doesn't mean you can stop it.

And the most fucked up thing of all is it's all me, all my own and all parts of me and I feel so angry at them and so hurt and so guilty that it's my torment that they're living and it just doesn't seem right, never seems right, I shouldn't be safe and comfortable and they shouldn't exist but they do and I hate them need them want them…

I roll over, burying my face in the pillow, trying and losing to a sob that has forced its way into my throat and out.

Soon the pillow is soaked with my tears and they still won't stop as I silently cry. Always silently, always by myself, always. So much pain, so many memories…

And they're people!

This wondrous thing, the human brain. This marvelous defense mechanism, disassociating. Imagine it. And no one understands, no one ever fucking understands, no one could possibly understand…

And these people, these beings, these intelligent, real, thinking, feeling, reacting _other_ parts of me are silent.

What can they do? There are no words to say that make _them_ less true. There's nothing to take away the pain and memories and sheer existence they have. Nothing that will change so that the next time they look in the mirror they see their own face, the one they feel inside, and not my own.

I tell myself I tell myself… Holding Meyer's bear tightly against my chest as the silent witness to this, my ragged breathing the only sound I can hear, inside and out… I tell myself this has to end, this has to get better, this has to heal…

A soft voice I don't recognize, it must be my own, whispers softly, what about your own pain Duo?

…but they are my pain…


	7. 05: A Successful Night EDIT

Warnings: Language. Some violence.

AN: Day 4, evening. Mission, then back to cabin. (Edited March 07)

AN2: I tend to toss these revised chapters up on my yahoogroup well before they get here, just in case people are impatient. And I suggest at least skimming parts you read on the first revision, as this one I'm doing now is adding things to just about every chapter, not to mention at least one completely new chapter.

* * *

A Successful Night

* * *

"Testing, testing. All present and accounted for?" Quatre asks, his voice somewhat hollow and tinny through the earpiece. 

"Affirmative." Heero's answer comes from beside me and echoes through the earpiece in my ear, making him sound strange.

"Ditto." Trowa's answer is softer and seems thin, like the wind has caught his voice and carried half of it away.

"Bright and clear like a rainy day." I scowl mentally at Ara who backs away sheepishly, but not too sheepishly.

I know that he's just trying to be helpful. If left to my own devices at this moment in time I probably would have grunted something, and that isn't exactly encouraging for the others, not since they know how I usually am.

Predictably 'my' answer brings silence from the others. They're probably wondering what's wrong with me, or how on earth I can be so chipper in a moment like this, or some combination of the two.

If only they knew, huh?

Heero turns to me with an unreadable look on his face. I couldn't explain where that came from even if I had to so I just stick my tongue out at him and go back to straightening the gloves. A soft hum begins in my mind but it shouldn't get any louder that that. There are some rules among us that aren't often broken, and fucking with a mission is one of them.

"Okay. Looks like we're ready. Remember positions, maintain radio silence unless necessary, keep out of sight. We have 20 minutes, give or take, before the next round on the guard's rotation begins. Let's go."

Rock and roll.

Shut up!

Heero glances over at me with a questioning look on his face.

What? Did I say that out loud?

I don't think so.

"You ready?" he mouths.

I nod to him, not trusting what will come out if I open my mouth, and slowly let out the breath that had been held without my quite realizing.

He nods back and I follow as he moves silently through the snow. Any crunch his boots might have made is covered by the soft whisper of the wind through the still full trees. The wildlife around us seems unmindful of our presence. We all find this peaceful and I try to internalize that, knowing that the mission and everything that comes with it will soon overshadow this peace.

Quatre's soft voice breaks through my thoughts, grounding me back in reality. "Guard One moving out of sector A and into sector B. Out."

That's all it takes for the nervousness of the moment to vanish, replaced by a calm and almost serene sense of purpose that will be boosted by adrenaline and uncertainty and fear. This is one of the few times that my mind is almost completely silent, and while I don't enjoy the circumstance I do enjoy the quiet.

Of course, once everything is said and done, all's clear, dangers gone, my mind is anything but quiet. It seems to roar up louder than before to make up for the quiet time. I keep telling myself I'll find a mute button one day, but…

Time to focus on the mission.

"Good job," Heero tells me.

I look up from the journal, blinking to focus on his face, a bit thankful to escape the clamor and confusion that seems to come with the 'conversations'. I'm only glad that it's just basically the 5 of us in here because it's already crowded enough with that. I really would lose my mind if there were more. Say 25 or 26. Just the thought makes me wince.

Oh, yeah, right. Heero said something. Sounded good, too.

"What?" I hope my voice isn't as thick as it is in my head.

"Good job, what you did," he says. I study his back, the only part of him we can really see with him working at the desk on his laptop.

We should get a laptop.

We have a laptop.

_I_ have a laptop.

People, we all have something. We don't need anything else.

No, I mean, we should get a laptop, or bring one of the laptops we have. Make journals all nice and neat and easier.

No.

It sure would be nice.

Yeah, it would.

I'd have to get a bigger bag or something, and that's just a hassle.

I hate typing anyway, so blah.

It would be more efficient, and less noticeable than this journal.

Well, Aus does have a point there.

It's Austin if you please.

Besides, Sandra says that the journal is very important for us. It allows us to express ourselves individually, in our own handwriting and such. An outlet to show who we are.

Besides, Ara wouldn't have anywhere to draw his flowers and unicorns if we used a laptop.

Fuck you. I'll have you know-

Hey. Let's not make any major changes any time soon. Maybe one day in the future, not right now.

Yo! Pay attention! Heero's talking again.

Oh. Damn, I hope we didn't miss anything important.

I blink, trying to focus my attention on his voice. "-but you proved that you could pull it together. Even if you were a bit moody. Just keep it up for tomorrow. Get some sleep. That seemed to do you some good today."

I hm acknowledgement and wait to see if he has anything else to say. But no, he remains silent, all except the light tap tap tap on his laptop.

I look back down to the journal. The writing starts again.

Bailey: Did Mr. Perfect Soldier just compliment us?

Ara: I think he did.

Austin: Probably would have been better if we had been paying attention.

Duo: Can't blame that on me.

Meyer: I can blame everything on you. Just give me a chance.

Bailey: Sleep, hah! You cried your bloody eyes out, made a real mess when you did wake up from the nap. I'm surprised they didn't notice.

Meyer: hmmmmmm that seems like something I'd be saying. Are you stealing my thoughts?

Bailey: Don't be ridiculous.

Meyer: You're a thought stealer! EEE! HEY! ARA! Quick, draw me some unicorns!

Ara: ---what?

Meyer: unicorns! Protect me! Oh, best give them some machine guns, on account of the horn being a totally lame thing that's like a glorified head butt.

Duo: All right, I think that's enough of the journal for tonight---

Meyer: Nonono! Unicorns-.

Duo: No unicorns. Or leprechauns. Or purple monkeys.

Meyer: You're a meaniehead.

Duo: And on that pleasant note. Bailey? Wash hair tomorrow morning or tonight?

Bailey: Um. Hm. I think tomorrow morning, give it some time to dry before we go of course, but no one wants to sleep in a bed with that much damp hair.

Meyer: Wanna ask Heero?

Duo: Absolutely not.

Ara: Mmm.

Meyer: Ara's a-

Austin: Enough. Journal done. We sleep now.

The journal is being closed and placed aside, the lamp switched off, the only illumination in the room the eerie glow of the laptop screen.

…Toby.

Meyer reaches across the bed and pulls Toby out from underneath the other pillow, dragging it against his chest. There's a triumphant little 'mwhaha, my Toby' somewhere ein the back of my mind.

I'm aware but unable to care that Heero is watching this from the screen of the laptop. Hadn't realized from the other position that he could see us with the way he'd been sitting.

Meyer mumbles something that I hope is a good night and our eyes close. As I let myself begin to slide off into what I can only hope is peaceful oblivion Heero joins us. Seems he's decided to follow our good example and get himself some sleep. Or maybe he decided to be nice and stop typing so we could get some sleep. Or maybe Meyer bitched at him about typing so we could get some sleep.

I smile faintly at that as I feel Meyer shift slightly.

Sometimes I can't help but like that kid, not that I'd ever tell him.

Ha ha, just told me.

Go to sleep, Mey.

Can I stay out?

I settle back some more, letting Meyer have his chance to snuggle with Toby.

I'm just about gone myself when I feel him shift a bit, looking up at the ceiling before closing his eyes, and then unexpectedly he gives a little wriggle and scoot towards the center of the bed. And then- suddenly we're cuddled right up next to Heero so that he's a solid, firm heat against our side.

Even in my dazed and distant place I can feel Heero's start of surprise, but I can't make out whatever it is Meyer mumbles out. Must be acceptable though, since Heero relaxes into the bed again.

I'm tempted to step in and put a stop to this, but I decide it's not really my place to make this decision. Whatever this is, it's between Meyer and Heero. And hopefully they'll leave me out of it.


	8. 06: A Not So Successful Afternoon EDIT

Warnings: Language. Some violence and emotional disturbance

AN: Day 5. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

* * *

A Not So Successful Afternoon

* * *

This morning there's just something about this small cabin, a quiet solitude and general peacefulness, that feels very much like an unexpected but wonderful gift. I can't exactly pinpoint what it is about it. It's a little more than practically being alone. In fact, actually being here by myself wouldn't likely feel this way. And maybe that's it, the illusion of being the only person for miles and therefore _safe_, with Heero being in the shower, not sitting nearby trying to puzzle me out, and Quatre and Trowa off doing things related to their part of the mission. Someone being so close, yet not intruding. 

Or maybe it's the unusual quiet in my mind. There's only the softest whispers and shifting touching me. No one's demanding attention, wanting something I don't want to give, trying to take control in some form or another. I actually feel in control, fully settled into my skin, instead of clinging to it fiercely while it shifts around me in occasionally uncomfortable ways. Oh yes, control feels amazing. Not that I let it put any silly illusions into my head that I actually have any real control at any point. My control is trembling every moment of every day. Some days it just feels more secure than others.

I take in a deep breath of the chilly morning air and pull the blanket tighter around me, ignoring the cool drip of water against the back of my neck. At least for another minute or so. Just as the chill is starting to creep past the warm blanket I readjust the towel and slip back into the cabin. The sudden warmth actually makes me give an odd little shiver as I head to the kitchen.

I pour a cup of coffee and sink into one of the kitchen chairs. All I can manage of the hot liquid is a little sip and I decide to work on my hair a little and let it cool.

It almost – _almost_ – seems silly to wash this much damn hair in the middle of winter, considering the circumstances and location and the fact that while we appear safe there's always the possibility that we'll have to take flight at any time. Heh, some people might even be right in thinking that. But we do have a blow dryer, and we always bring our own towels, those nifty ones that actually seem to absorb water instead of just getting damp and making everything else it touches damp as well. Seriously, how can people use those things?

But sometimes things just need done. And my hair just needed a good washing. Not that it was really messy or dirty. Never would have had the option of sleeping without washing it had it actually needed washing for the sake of washing. Only time that's ever allowed to happen is if we pass out or are physically incapable of getting it washed. And when that does happen – oh, the bitching… Nah, this need was the need of time – a half hour of hair washing to give Bailey a chance to be Bailey is a little sacrifice to make, really. The other alternatives tend to involve massive amounts of cleaning or massive amounts of being obsessive compulsive. Inevitable, in the end, but if one can control the sacrifices of time and body just a little…

Ah, the poor martyr.

"Not even you can ruin this moment, Meyer," I murmur, giving the coffee another little testing sip. Still a bit too hot.

Meyer mumbles something indistinct about kicking my ass when we finally get back to his beloved game systems.

Back in the hall the shower turns off. If I hadn't caught that sound I would have been hard pressed not to notice the odd little gargle the pipes around the kitchen sink area make in response. Ara twitches with the need to rip out all the plumbing until it stops. I distract him with suggesting he make Heero a cup of coffee, something he's only too eager to jump to his feet to do.

When Heero comes in a couple minutes later looking freshly scrubbed Ara is the one hovering with the freshly fixed coffee – one cream, two sugars, my, my, someone pays Heero rather close attention – but once Heero accepts it with a surprised look I step to the front and Ara settles back with a minimal amount of sighing.

Heero gives me an almost wary look – sheesh, can't imagine why – but in the end he takes the coffee and settles at the table with it, hardly making the liquid ripple up until he actually blows on it lightly.

Ah, well, not even Heero's perfection can last forever.

I'm not the only one who mentally snorts at Ara's remark.

"Still have half a day before us," Heero says after taking a small sip. "Not sure I'll be able to relax enough to actually enjoy it before we have to head out."

Huh. Wonder where this is coming from. First time he's ever admitted to any sort of possible pre-mission jitters.

Ooh! Maybe he's starting to like us more!

Meyer mutters something again, something I'm glad no one seems to catch from the not quite nice tone of it.

Well, whatever's prompting Heero to open up, certainly not going to let the opportunity pass us up.

I drop into the chair beside him, a little less gracefully than he had managed, and tilt my head thoughtfully to one side. "Understandable quandary."

"Quandary?"

I look up from my coffee cup with a nod. "Yup. Quandary. It means-."

"I know what it means," he cuts me off, and then lowers his voice somewhat. "I'm just surprised you used it, that's all. You don't seem the type, I guess."

I resist the urge to frown or scowl at him. You'd think after yesterday he'd keep in mind that there's more to me than he realizes. You'd also think he'd know better than to advertise his ignorance.

"And just what _type_ do I seem like?"

Heero looks over, seeming a little surprised by the slight snap in my tone, and then his mouth twitches a little. "No, I didn't mean it like that. Just seems a bit of an old fashioned word, not something you'd actually be given to using in conversation."

Hmmm…

There's a definite twitch to his mouth now. "I know you're intelligent," he tells me mildly. "I'd never imply that you aren't. Though-." He stops and busies himself with drinking a little more coffee.

"Though?"

"I never doubt your intelligence. Sometimes I just wonder why you seem to hide how intelligent."

Eh?

Oh. Damn.

Ara, what the hell have you been doing around Heero?

Keep your cool. Sheesh. So he thinks you're more intelligent than you are.

Ara…

He sniggers and mutters something about it being my time of month. I am not amused but force myself to shrug it off. Heero seems like he's got something he wants to say. It takes him another minute until he actually does, though.

"Duo, what – what was last night about?"

"Last night?" I echo, giving him a puzzled, curious look up until Austin nudges me and reminds me about Meyer's decision on our new sleeping arrangement. Damn, should have known it wouldn't stay between those two. Not that that's Heero's fault… "Oh. Last night. Well. I guess, well, sometimes a person just needs some human contact. Stuff that doesn't involve violence or death or pain or something…" I give a slight shrug.

Heero gives me a thoughtful nod after a moment, taking another little sip of coffee.

I notice he doesn't have anything to say about him having allowed it…

"So. I'm going to go and try drying my hair," I tell Heero before he can start to ask any more question.

"I'm sure you'll be successful," he murmurs into his cup.

I leave the cup there on the table and make way to the room. I can feel Heero's eyes tracking me up until I'm out of sight.

Damn, Heero's acting weird himself.

Virus Duo. Or bacteria. Infecting people with the crazy. Plague person.

Meyer.

Oh… sorry. Didn't mean that…

My mouth twitches as I dig out the hair dryer. "Maybe you're right, Mey," I allow as acceptance of the apology. "Maybe I am passing on the crazy."

Heaven help us all.

Love you too, Bails. But enough with the snarking. I sure as hell have no intention of dealing with this mass of hair this morning.

For the moment I'm more than glad to take that little mental step back and give the brush and hair dryer up to Bailey. It's not the drying I'm avoiding, mind you. It's my inevitable ability to create a mess of tangles from hair that's actually promising not to tangle much. But Bailey knows what he's doing and the expensive hair products he and Ara get go a long way to helping.

Bailey finishes with the hair dryer and the brushing thing in time enough for us to hear the door open and close. We listen closely briefly and then a noise from outside says that Heero just went out to the jeep. Probably checking to make sure we have everything for tonight.

As nonchalant as we seem about it all we're also a bit nervous about tonight. A little more so than usual. Heero's been vague about the details of his secondary mission and when Heero doesn't have a lot of information… I can't help but be wary of walking into a mess of a situation. Not that we're worried, per se. Just a case of nerves.

Maybe we should talk to Sandy…

There's a little murmuring about it but in general it's decided to be an okay idea. And we've got about twenty minutes free now, so…

We dig the phone out and I let the others have some privacy to talk to her for a few minutes, focusing on some inner meditation and finding my calm space. I don't really need to talk to her, myself. Actually, I tend to keep my own counsel before missions and then want to talk after. But a couple minutes of pleasant chatting with someone familiar certainly is acceptable.

She seems a little distracted as we chat about every day things, but maybe I'm imagining it.

Heh, with how often I think that you'd expect me to think the entire world around me is nothing but a hallucination. Though sometimes I can't help but wonder…

"Duo?"

"Hm. Oh, sorry. Thoughts got away from me. But damn, the weather there sounds nice. Can't wait to get back."

"Ah. Yes. Hope you'll be back soon. You're a bit overdue for a visit."

I focus more closely on her voice. There's something there…

"Doc?"

She's quiet a moment, and then the words just seem to explode out of her. "Duo, please, promise me something. Promise me after this one you'll stop."

That cuts me off cold and I sink down onto the carpet, back against the wall, staring abstractly at the wall opposite. What the hell…

She's not allowed to ask that of us! She knows better!

"You know I can't promise you that," I whisper.

There is a silence on the other end of the line, one that leaves me feeling nervous and unsure. The call has just become a major mistake, cutting into the serenity I had been feeling, the peace I had established, breaking down the mental stability.

Fuck.

The murmurs begin in my head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You know I can't promise you that," I repeat, voice dropping even lower, urgently. "This… this is what I am, this is what has given me a reason to live this long, to continue on. You know that. You know what this means. You know why I'm doing this. I can't stop."

"Damn it to all hell, Duo! You would be making amazing progress by now-."

"I have-."

"No! Duo, you don't see it, but I do. You're slowly wearing yourself down; you're putting more strain on yourself than you should. You may feel like you can handle it, but you can't. You are setting yourself back, you're killing yourself, and you're isolating the others."

I give a start. I'm not the only one. There's more shifting in my mind, murmuring, and I go through a shocked series of rapid switches so fast that I don't know who it is or how many times.

It leaves me breathing hard. On the other end Dr. Johnson takes several calming breaths.

"I'm sorry," she says after a silence. "I – I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just – I lost someone today. She killed herself, and with Meyer and the cutting… I don't want you to end up that way as well. I like you. You have so much to offer the world, so much potential… But I know that it doesn't do you any good. I'm sorry."

Shudder, switch. "No kidding." The tone is just cold and indifferent enough for her to pick up on the change.

"Austin."

"Yes, Dr. Johnson."

"I know. I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again. Is everything all right?"

I note distantly that she sounds more exhausted now than we've ever heard. But even still… I can't quite forgive her yet…

"Things have scattered a bit," Austin informs her coolly. "It doesn't help out our sense of security when you lose control like that."

"I know-."

Shudder, switch. "Hey, let her alone Aussie. She's having a bad day. We all can have bad days, right, Doc Lady?"

"Yeah, that's right Meyer. Did I upset you?"

"Nah. I'm okay. Totally cool. It startled me, but it was worth Duo's reaction."

"All right." She takes a breath. "Can I talk to Duo again?"

I'm sucked back into reality with hardly any more warning that that. I'm quiet a moment, though, then give a wary, "Hey."

"Duo?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. Listen, I'm going to let you go before I do anything else that I'll regret later. Just, try to take it easy, please?"

"Sure," I tell her, and then bid her a goodbye.

I look at the phone curiously. Aside from the initial shock, well, I'm not as freaked out by that as it seems I would be normally. Hell, maybe I'm just so used to walking on the tight rope that I can cut her some slack. She's normally very good at staying professional, even though it's easy to see she really cares about us. So, I push all the weirdness aside and actually think about where she's coming from. Maybe…

"What do we think about taking a vacation after this?" I ask softly.

Oooo, vacation. Um, Disney. No, I want to go camping. No, no, remember that really cool comic book store at that one place we stayed at last month, first I want to go there, and then I want to spend a couple days eating ice cream…

How about we just relax?

Oh, there was this amazing club just out of town in our last hideaway. It would be nice to go back there.

Just a beach would be nice, a little loft off the beach, settle down with some books. Peace and quiet.

Oh, and that mega bookstore we saw a couple weeks ago!

You know, I've always wanted to learn how to fish.

Ara, that's just the most freaky image I've ever had.

Sky diving!

Um, no.

Swimming with sharks!

Very no.

Mountain climbing!

Are you trying to think of things no one will ever agree to, Meyer?

…Maybe. Tuna fish!

The hell…

I'm almost grateful to hear Heero calling for us- well, me.

I push myself up and drop the phone back in the bag. Meyer seems to have abandoned his quest for weird.

Oh, oh, oh, we could always find a place like this. Snowmen and such, but we'd need to invite someone else along to have snowball fights and stuff.

We could always invite Heero.

He'd go nuts with us without a mission.

Poor, poor sexy stoneface.

I know.

I was being sarcasmic.

Sort of like orgasmic?

I think he meant sarcastic.

Gah.

"What's up Heero?" He's frowning a little.

The sky.

"Come on. We better head out now. Trowa and Quatre are a little ahead of schedule."

"Cool. Let me grab my jacket."

I'd like to grab something…

Ara, kindly keep your X-rated thoughts to yourself.

Yeah, Ara! There's a kid in here! Scar me for life, you will!

Jacket fetched I follow him out to the jeep, noting with amusement that it's already warmed up and running.

The drive doesn't feel as long as it really is, mostly because I'm keeping myself in a comfortable state of focused on breathing.

"We'll hang back in the cover of the trees for a minute. See what's going on. Then we'll move in and take a little look around," Heero remarks when we're almost to the mystery location. Should actually be interesting to see the place, from what Quatre and Trowa have reported. The building we'll hit is the biggest and tallest one in town, and from all reports it's not much more than a large two-story house in size. What was it Quatre said? You could sneeze from one end of the town and someone at the extreme opposite end would be close enough to take a step back. Damned amusing image.

I entertain myself with imagining monster sneezes for a couple minutes. By the time Heero speaks again I'm caught up in an epic tale about Mr. Sneezeman, the amazing superhero who sneezes his opponents down and wears a large tissue as a cape.

"About the time we've looked things over Quatre and Trowa should be there with the supplies they've picked up. Their plan is to set them up in various strategic places. Remember, we're not trying to bring the building down. We just want to cause some minor damage and shake things up."

That's nice. Why is he telling us this?

No clue.

"For once I'm not the 'blow shit up' guy," I point out. "Which, by the way, no one has bothered to explain. Considering that's what I do. I blow shit up. But, anyway, why you tellin' me stuff I'm not working on? We expecting some sort of problem?"

Heero turns from the wheel of the jeep momentarily, and then looks back to the snow-dusted road. "I just want to warn you."

"And why would I need to be warned?"

…That's why.

I look up as we move through the trees, curiously, then focus inward to see what that meant. But then what Ara saw through the trees I catch as well. No doubt this is the building. It towers above everything else. A steeple. A cross. It's a church.

"What. The. Fuck. "

"Duo," Heero begins in an overly calm voice. "I was hoping there wouldn't be much problem. But that's why I'm emphasizing that we have no intention of doing real harm. We just want to cause some damage and shake things up."

"It's a church, Heero."

"It's also serving to ferry weapons to the base underground."

"It's a church, Heero," I repeat, voice rising.

"Even still, we just want to keep them on their toes. Remember that. We have no intention of doing anything permanent."

"It's a _church_, Heero."

"I would have let you stay behind, but I need you," he says after a moment. "I'm going to feel odd inside, and I don't quite know what's what in the church, you know. And you used to live in one-."

"What?"

"I did some research." He pauses a moment, something flickering across his face. "You used to live at a church. You'll be able to slip in easily and you'll know how to navigate the various areas. You have the best chance of talking your way out of it if someone catches you. That's your area of expertise."

Research? How the fuck do you do research on someone who doesn't exist? Oh, I get it. I'm going to make G's life a living hell the next time I see him. Meddlesome bastard.

I cross my arms tightly over my chest, now tense and alert, and I turn to look through the trees as Heero parks the vehicle. It's a newer church, simple yet somehow ornate. My breath catches in my throat and I feel goose bumps rise up on my arms.

No.

"I don't think I can." I trail off, swallowing hard, and Heero looks over to me, reaching out and putting his hand on my arm.

"Listen, Duo, I would have left you out of this except I don't know shit about churches and you do. I just want you to wander inside, take a look around, see what they have and where they have it. You'll come back out and Quatre and Trowa will set everything up so that they get the message it's the weapons and ferrying that's being attacked, not the church. Once Quatre and Trowa hear everything they need to hear from you then you and I are done and we'll leave."

I turn to look at him. It seems reasonable enough, no real damage, just a little bit of trouble.

I swallow and look back to the church.

Maybe too damned reasonable.

Oh boy, here we go. You, your moral high horse. I can just see the problems now.

I mentally growl at Meyer, but it's only half hearted. And true to form he attacks the weakness.

Looks like your 'reason for living' has just presented itself a little _quandary_, now hasn't it? Hm, what on earth will you do? Ooh, maybe you'll be a hypocrite. Poor, big baby can't bring himself to complete a mission. Oh my, but isn't that what's keeping you alive? Looks like you have to do it. Even if it is a church. But hey, you've got _experience_ with-

_Shut up!_

…you're shit if you let them do this.

Shut up.

You're shit if you do this.

Shut up.

But, hey, what's it matter to you, right? You're shit already. What's another church on your list?

_SHUT UP!_

My hands are fisted so hard in my lap that they ache but I don't care. Once I can trust my voice I twist around to Heero, startling him, and snap out, "In theory! They could still hold services here tomorrow if they wanted? That's how little damage will be done?"

"In theory."

"In theory."

"Yes, in theory."

I swallow. "Fine. I don't need this shit right now." I let out a shaky breath. "What are you doing to it?"

Heero looked out at the church through the trees, arms resting over the steering wheel. "From what I understand of Quatre and Trowa's plans they plan on setting up the explosions around the back, where the weapons are delivered and loaded. Around the supports at the back, not targeting the weapons themselves if there are any currently being stored. Structural damage."

Structural damage.

I stare out at the church as well. So many memories are attached to churches. Many of them not mine. Can I do this? Should I do this? Is it fair to the others?

And since when have you thought of the 'others' before acting?

That's not very fair, I murmur.

You're so selfish, Meyer hisses. I hate you.

Please…

Fuck off. Piece of shit.

"I don't know if I should do this," I murmur, looking over at Heero. "I don't know if I can do this."

He looks back to me, then out to the church again. He doesn't say anything.

I can feel Meyer's hatred and anger trying to swallow me. But Ara's gently insistent, murmuring to me, asking questions…

"What is this? I mean, this is just a cover? Is that it? We're doing this so we can get out of here? How will this distract them from the missing information? Won't it make them think to check it even more? What the hell is going on? Why didn't we just leave last night?"

Heero tilts his head to one side.

"I hate being in the dark," I whisper.

Bad things happen in the dark.

Dead things happen in the dark, Meyer hisses.

"The truth?"

"No!" Meyer snaps, erupting before I can hold him back. "I want you to lie to me! The fuck you think?" He glares at Heero.

Heero shifts a little, then nods his head in understanding. "The truth is we also want to cripple their weapon supply. A large shipment just came in. We just want a better idea of their location so we don't have to take out the entire church to get to them."

That's a fuck of a thing to imply.

I swallow and look back to the church, ask in a soft, even voice, "Are you telling me that if I don't scout this out then you'll be forced to hit the _whole fucking church_?"

He turns in his seat with a sigh. "No, Duo, that's now what I'm telling you at all. I'm just saying that we have a pretty good idea of where they're probably at, but we want to be sure that there's nothing else back there."

That sounds reasonable…

Meyer begins to hiss at me again.

The fuck you want from me?! I snap. They're going to do this with or without me! And who the fuck but us will care about the church!

This wouldn't be happening if you weren't such a selfish, self centered fuck!

Don't you even _start_ with me. If I stopped doing this tomorrow you'd roast me for not caring enough.

Ara quietly points out Heero's waiting for me to say something.

I look over at Heero with a scowl. "Fine. No, don't even open your mouth. Not a fucking word. You and me, boyo, are going to have a talk about this later." I get out of the jeep and take great pleasure in slamming the door hard enough to make the jeep rock.

I stalk away, headed through the trees silently towards the town. I can hear Heero behind me but I don't care. I force myself to calm, to breathe, to find that part of me that's definitely mine but almost dangerously close to being another personality.

Meyer starts to hiss again.

Silence! Not even a fucking sound. Mission rules.

He gives an ugly laugh but I cut him off before he can start in again.

Don't even think about it. You break this rule right now and I will not be held responsible for _what_ comes out of me.

He subsides, quiet but still radiating hatred and anger. That's fine by me. There's no way he can hate me more than I hate myself at this moment.

* * *

"All seems clear," I tell them coolly, sliding my gloves back on as I walk to the van Trowa and Quatre showed up in. It's unimaginably hard to pick locks when you have to do so through a thick layer of cloth. Not impossible, but hard. Not worth it unless necessary either. 

"Mind you, the entire time I felt like I was violating something by being in places I wasn't supposed to be." It slips out before I can stop it. The three exchange a glance I'm not exactly comfortable with. I slap my hands together a few times, and then rub them together, trying to look a little more pleasant and less like I'm about to start murdering the world. "Then I found the weapons, and how I felt changed pretty quickly."

"Can we get in easily with the stuff we have?" Trowa asks, leaning against the back of the van, expression removed but thoughtful.

"I imagine so." I can't help but sneer a little. "There didn't seem to be all that much by way of security. Or anyone around for that matter. I left all the important doors unlocked. Easy to find, too. Hard not to be with how much fucking stuff they've got stored." I fight the ugly expression I know is trying to paint itself on my face. "After the door behind the pulpit you take three immediate rights and then two immediate lefts. From there doesn't matter where you turn, almost."

Take down the entire fucking church!

I startle at Meyer's sudden violent explosion, the first he's said since I enforced mission rules. The other pilots are giving me odd, concerned looks but I'm too busy trying to keep Meyer from ripping the control from me.

What?! Father Maxwell would roll over in his grave to know that churches were doing something so- so- so monstrous. Fucking monstrous! That's what it is! Destroy it all! Fuck it to the ground!

Meyer!

I would have strangled anyone I saw inside, so be fucking thankful there's no one there. How dare they? How fucking dare they? It's a church! A church! Is nothing sacred?!

"Duo," Quatre murmurs softly.

I look up at him, startled for a moment by the outside world. But I recover quickly, shoving Meyer back forcefully when he tries to force himself forward.

"Are you okay?" Quatre asks a little hesitantly. "Your face… it sort of contorted, or something. And you seemed to be getting upset and a little twitchy…"

Shit. Breathe. Easy, simple. In, out.

"I'm fine," I tell him after a few moments, forcing myself into a calmer state. I'm a little worried I'm going to have to give over to Austin, and I'm not so sure he'll react as rationally as he usually does. And if he doesn't… "Just the thought of it, you know," I manage. "You better hurry up and be done with it, eh, before someone comes poking around."

Quatre nods and turns to Trowa, motioning for them to get moving. Trowa is watching me in a way that would normally raise my hackles but I just can't care at the moment. Sometimes I hate the way he seems all knowing.

I turn away without a word to anyone else and begin the trudge back to the jeep, focusing on each step in the hopes of not having to focus on anything else.

Halfway back to the jeep the doubt begins to gnaw at me. Doubt that it's the right thing to do, doubt that it's not the right thing, doubt about those good, solid things in life taken for granted so long, doubt about…

I push farther away from Meyer, trying to get some distance between myself and this guilt attack of his. I shiver to myself, feeling it. God, oh god. If we get through this without Meyer finding a knife and carving into this body some more I'll count myself damned lucky.

"Worst case scenario," Heero states, sliding into the jeep a handful of moments after me. "Worst case scenario is that they have a lot more back there than we know about, more than you found, things that are more potentially explosive than what we've taken into account. The entire thing could go up in flames. Can you handle that?"

Oh how fucking sweet. Suddenly instead of protecting me from important information he's decided it's time to be brutally honest.

I give a nod. Not because I can handle it. I'm surprised I can handle breathing at the moment. But I have to do something or he'll just keep looking at me and I don't want to be here anymore.

I can't help the brief ghost of a smile, though, a moment later when I catch Ara ripping Meyer a new one about how he acted earlier in the face of his own indecisiveness and fickle moral standpoint.

I look back to the church. I can't seem not to. Quatre's just slipping out now and partway down the walk he stops to look back at the church, then he lifts his head toward the sky and seems to say something.

Is he praying? Oh, how nice.

"Bailey," I breathe, turning my head toward the window.

"Pardon?" Heero asks, looking at me as he starts the jeep.

I shake my head. My eyes are drawn to the church again. It's so picturesque. I think that helps. As nice as- as our church was it was rundown. Inside and out. But especially outside.

"Can we go now?" I ask Heero quietly, forcing my eyes from the church.

Heero opens his mouth to say something, and then he pauses, looking to me. I wonder what he's seeing that has him looking so uncertain for a moment. He begins to answer that we'll go when something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention and we both turn.

It's so horrific for me at first that it comes in pieces.

First, the background. Innocent and snowy white. Freakishly blue, clear sky.

Then the immediate setting. Half bare trees, the rustle of wind, Quatre at the passenger side of the van.

And then the last pieces click into place. Dark blue, a moving blur, a small child, maybe eight, dashing towards the church. He looks silly, a part of my mind notes. He looks like his legs are trying to run in opposite directions. But he doesn't mind. He's laughing.

I realize I've frozen in horror only when the struggle for control begins. Suddenly I'm on my knees in the seat, frantically trying to get the door open. Part of me sees that it's locked and clumsy hands begin to fumble with the lock. The longer the struggle goes on the further away it all seems. I'm suddenly a complete bystander. I can barely feel my own skin, let alone make it act. I hate it, this, falling so completely away. Hate knowing what's happening, seeing what's happening, trapped watching but unable to do anything. The shifts of control are happening so quickly I seem to be shivering.

My throat and mouth are making noises, things in the realm between screams and sobs, and then the door suddenly gives and my body seems to be struggling even more now that the door is open. I realize there are hands at my waist, strong hands, keeping me in the seat. And Meyer is screaming rage at Heero, beating at his arms. The hands become an arm around the waist and I want to warn Heero it's a bad idea when he tries to cover Meyer's mouth with his hand. We got white walled once, when someone tried to do that. People tend to stick you into psych wards when you try and chew someone's hand off. Especially if you actually succeed.

Heero's quick, though. When Meyer begins to snap at the hand it earns a painful jab in the back. Painful enough to jolt me and I suddenly find a way back if I can just crawl back into myself. I try, focusing on Heero's voice. I can hear it, strong, frantic or nearly so, but trying to be soothing at the same time. No words, just sound, but I know I'm getting closer, no matter how leaden and weak I feel, when the words begin to make sense.

"Duo. Duo! Stop it, stop! You can't do anything! Stop, it's too late! Damn it, Duo!"

It's the intensity of fire against snow that brings me back. Not Heero, not the heat I can feel even from here, not the sounds. It's the sight of the church, crumbling around itself, fire slowly licking away at it, the entire structure folding in on itself. It so familiar. I wonder if it's really real or if I'm dreaming. I expect to see L2 against the background, not this snow. Wrong. So wrong for there to be snow. Snow should never have to see this.

Nightmares again, a little voice whispers. Could be nightmares.

No. But I wish it was.

I swallow convulsively, struggles stopped, barely aware of Heero's arms loosening though never pulling away. My throat is dry and I can't seem to make it go away. It feels like I've been breathing in baked, hot hair. I give a little shiver, unable to force my eyes away, unable to look from the crumbling church.

I want to. Please. I want to stop, I don't want to remember, I don't want to see, I don't want to smell, I don't want to be here. Why is it so quiet? Why is there no one… Why am I here alone?

They're scared, a little voice whispers.

They're upset.

They're in shock.

They're hiding.

Finally the church is pulled away from me. No, I'm pulled away from it. Heero's turning me to look at him, his cold, naked fingers smoothing my hair back and touching my face. He's watching me closely, eyes wide, mouth moving. I can hear nothing, though. I've gone deaf to every sound but the crackling of fire in my memory. Heero turns to me and I feel his cold naked fingers on my face, smoothing my hair back. He's studying me closely, saying something, but I've gone deaf to the words. Even in his face I see the flames, even in Heero's face. Flames back by Prussian. And when he turns away, looking back to the destroyed church, I can still see his eyes. I feel myself beginning to tremble.

Heero's looking at me again, touching my face, looking concerned, mouth moving. He pats my cheek several times, then pulls away slowly, gesturing out to the side and then back several times. And then he's sliding out of the jeep, keys clenched in hand, and moving over to the van that's pulled up beside us. He leans in, focused on Quatre. Quatre looks very visibly shaken.

Duo.

Huh? Words?

Duo.

My name?

And then Austin eases into my consciousness, gently pushing me back, giving me permission to simply not exist. The last I feel are the gloves being pulled off.

…Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe…

Austin is playing with a mess of wires under the dash. I think it should make sense but it doesn't. I think it looks like a disaster waiting to happen. But the jeep starts, a quiet vibration, so maybe it's not so bad…

Austin puts the jeep into reverse, noting as he glances at his surroundings that Heero looks rather surprised and Quatre shocked. He meets Heero's eyes for a moment, face cool. This is my problem, his expression says. I will handle this. This is my job.

…where are we going?

…Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe…

Some place safe.

I fade in and out as Austin drives. It's still quiet inside, it helps keep me lulled. The steady chanting of not safe, not safe, not safe has even become quieter, not so frightened. Austin's in control. We must be safe. Austin makes us safe.

Next thing I know the door to the cabin is closing behind us, the lock catching.

I can feel it inside, the steady calm of Austin giving away to a strange almost mania.

Shoes, next to door, line up against wall. Coat, over couch, fold nicely. Gloves, off, one at a time, all the fingers are out, fold them, tuck them into coat pocket. Place hat over jacket.

I'm so tired.

Bailey has other ideas.

Bailey's other ideas scare me more than Meyer's. I want to cry but I feel like I'm drowning.

Opening the kitchen door, letting it swing closed, my body moves over to the supply closet and it really sinks in what's about to happen, bringing with it that horrifying dread and horror that I rarely feel hate to feel always feel Baileys hell.

He brings out the bucket, and then the floor cleaner.

Why is it always floors?

He places these precisely on the sink and then turns the hot water on and he waits, watching, for steam.

Why always the floors?

He's satisfied soon enough and he's pouring the cleaner in, so much cleaner, too much cleaner.

We met a woman once who washed her hands, obsessively, until they bled.

He lifts the bucket, sets it on the floor, then adds the two sponges and the wooden-backed hard-bristle brush.

She thought it would be nice, just to scrub floors.

He leaves the brushes to soak and moves across the kitchen, pushing the table back, stacking the chairs atop, out of the way.

I thought it would be nice, just to wash our hands.

He comes back over, pushes up our sleeves and hauls the bucket over to the corner, must always start in the east-most corner.

I'm trembling so hard inside, horrified, knowing, waiting, helpless, Bailey's normally steadier hands are shaking ever so slightly.

But he doesn't stop.

He's down on his knees, the lemon scent so strong we should be sick from the smell, his hands are in the water, burning hot water, the wooden brush comes out, always the wooden brush, why are there always wooden brushes, old wooden brushes, he hunches over, working hard on the tile, just one tile, just this first tile, always with the wooden brush, there's always the wooden brush, the wooden brush on the tiles, every movement sure, every movement hard, every movement part of a pattern, a horrible painful never-ending pattern.

…shake, shake, gripping hard, brush on the tile. Just one tile, this way, that way, this way, that way, count the times, count the seconds, one swipe here, one swipe there, one hard scrub and back in the bucket, burning hot water, rubbed raw hands, brush swish, swish, swish then out of the water, shake, shake, gripping hard, brush on the tile. Just one tile, this way, that way, this way…

Again and again and again.

And the worse is the pain. It pulls me back, makes me feel, makes me watch, keeps me trapped. But he's too far gone, too deeply in the cycle, I can't break it can't slow it can't stop it can't logic it.

His mantra, harsh, biting, disgusted, aches as much as my palms once we're halfway.

Dirty. Clean it. Dirty. Clean it. Dirty. Clean it.

The tiles are biting into my abused palms. The other side of the kitchen is slowly approaching, but there's no relief in reaching, there's never relief. There's new pain. And then old pain. He doesn't finish. Bailey never finishes. He pauses, he refills the water, all new hot, add new soap, and then down again, across the floor. He never stops. The skin on my palms is rubbed raw, red and swollen and stinging, my knees ache and my back hurts, I'm lightheaded, and still he continues.

Please, someone. I beg silently, watching the tears mingle with the lightest hint of pink, the first signs of raw and aching being open and bleeding. It just makes Bailey scrub even harder.

Please. Someone, anyone, come in, stop me. Stop him. Force me. Please. He won't stop. We can't. Never can. We'll pass out first. Just collapse. Brush in hand, bleeding on the floor. It won't be the first time, but please don't let it be this time.

Please, someone…

But no. I want this to stop. I want someone to hug me. Someone to make it all better. Someone to tell me I'm not going crazy. But not here.

The others, they won't know. They'll think I'm crazy. They won't understand. They'll be disgusted. I'm not going crazy going so crazy not crazy. Don't find me, not like this, not in this way, not crazy.

I cry harder, my chest is so tight I can barely breathe.

I don't want to be crazy.

Please, someone. Find me. Stay away. Help me. Never know. Please, please, please…

Bailey stands again, water bucket held awkwardly in slick hands. The water is pink when he dumps it. He refills it. More steam, more soap. Back on the floor. The pain is new old, old new, searing and burning and making my entire arms hurt and my stomach roll.

The world is starting to blur a little, but not enough. Still enough energy to go. Obsessed energy. Adrenaline and fear.

Someone screams in my mind, vehicle approaching, vehicle approaching, loud unfamiliar vehicle approaching. And still Bailey refuses to let go, refuses to see anything more than a floor impossible to clean.

The vehicle gets quieter, fading away, not stopping. I cry out. No, not so close, not to leave.

But then the door opens, the slight creak of the screen door closing and then the front door closing.

I'm terrified. I'm relieved. Friend or foe, this will stop. It doesn't matter how. This will stop. I'm so exhausted I'm past shame and fear. I just want it to stop. Even if it kills us.

Footsteps, just for a moment, somewhere, familiar footsteps. And breathing. I know that breathing. Who is this? I know this. And I manage to glance up, just for a second, when the kitchen door opens. It's Heero. I know him. It's Heero. Heero can do anything. Heero will help. Heero, Heero, Heero.

He sees me. He's staring at me. Wide eyed and shocked, frozen there.

My eyes are forced back down as we switch tiles.

Please, please, please…

I manage to force my head back up, even as the hands continue, even as Bailey fights me to see the floor, to clean the floor.

Please, Heero. I want to say. Please, Heero. Help me, Heero. Make it better, Heero. Don't judge me, Heero. It's just Duo, Heero. Help Duo, Heero.

I swallow down another sob that is threatening to choke what air I can bring in. Heero's not moving, I begin to panic, gasp out a breath, forces words out in a harsh, hoarse whisper. I wonder if we'd been screaming from pain. I hope the words in my mind are the words in my mouth.

"Please. Heero. Stop. Won't stop. Make him. Please. Stop."

"Make who stop?" I think I hear him whisper distantly as I fade away as Bailey fights me and begin to win as I lose my grip and fade away. I hope he said that, I hope he does something, I hope he helps. I try again. I pray it works.

"Please. Stop us. Can't. Please."


	9. 07: Admitting the Truth EDIT

Warnings: Language.

AN: Day 6, midnight and after. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

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Admitting the Truth

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Groggy realization that something's happened, but just something, so wake up and find out. Anxiety follows, pressing close to my chest, suggesting that perhaps this place of nothingness is better, that the waking world just won't live up to my expectations.

But why?

Anxiety is probably my friend in this case, but cat's and Duo's share curiosity in common.

I focus on myself, trying to assess my state, trying to wake some awareness of my body to give me some clue as to how why when where what. Memory teases me, broken and strange, but I manage to catch enough to piece together and then I check it with the others that are just as vaguely there. Oh god…

I could fall back into unconsciousness, a little voice points out. It's right there. Just give in. Give up. No more problems. Deal with it later.

I want to. I do. But life outside of my body has other plans. Two, in fact. The first is the second and the second is the first but doesn't come first.

Heero.

Heero knows. That remembrance dashes any hope of gently falling back into blessed unconsciousness. Heero knows.

And Heero's right here somewhere. I can hear him breathe. Hear him shift.

"Duo."

Yeah. That. Just. Yeah.

Don't answer. Must answer. Find answers. Give answers.

I shift a hand slowly, groaning at the fierce ache in them I can feel. But I persist. Sometimes being a multiple means you're just persisting from moment to moment.

I manage to get my hand up over my face, or over this face that sometimes is mine. Over my eyes. Light hurts when you come back from the land of nothing. I'm not so out of it not to notice the soft feel of gauze against my forehead when I rest my hand there, not having the energy to keep it lifted up over. And only then do I carefully open my eyes, a mere slit and then almost halfway when I'm not blinding. My hand relaxes slowly. Only the bedside lamp is lit. The rest of the room is darkness and shadows. I wonder what time it is.

"It's midnight. Here, take a drink of water."

Holy fucking shit damn! He's reading my mind!

Don't be ridiculous. You probably had that scrunched up kind of mole looking up at the sunlight face that's just screaming out, what time it, what time it, what time it.

…what the hell are you talking about?

Er. Ara mentally shuffles his feet. Sorry. It's the stress. And I don't feel like dealing with you panicking.

Well. What the hell. I don't feel quite so likely to fly apart now so maybe it worked.

I try and reach for the water but Heero tuts – Heery Yuy actually freakin' tuts. Who the hell tuts? Heero Yuy, apparently – and he pushes my hands away gently, guiding a straw to my mouth. I'm almost pathetically grateful for the cool but not too cold water. After I swallow enough of the blessed liquid my throat doesn't feel quite so much like sandpaper he moves the glass away.

I'm a terrible patient. I know this. While he's distracted with the water I take hold of my stupidity with both hands and give pushing myself up into a sitting position a try. Yeah, you know that pain thing? Whatever the hell I'm feeling right now, it's a fuck of a lot worse.

"Duo." Heero sighs in exasperation and he helps me the rest of the way.

I don't care, though. I feel more me sitting up, feel more in control. And that's saying something. I look down at my bandaged hands. No matter how soft you think gauze is its still damned painful rubbing against raw skin. I don't see any blood beginning to stain the white, though. That's something. I didn't think my hands would ever stop bleeding last time. Be a shame to have to remove the bandages, too. Such a nice job. Better than I ever manage on my own.

Oh, look, more questions to answer. He's changed the bandages on my arms and they're visible for all the world to see. This'll be fun. Thanks ever so, Meyer.

Fuck you, Duo.

I take a slow breath. Meyer sounds so small and weak and I can just see him, huddled in on himself in a corner somewhere, eyes so wide in such a thin little face.

Damn.

"Duo?"

My eyes flick up to Heero, and then I give a little nod of acknowledgement.

He sits back a bit as if to study me, perched at the edge of the bed, expression thoughtful and strange.

Unconsciously Ara seems to seep into my being. My hands flutter up, awkwardly tucking loose strands of hair away from my face, trying to smooth it down a little. My face feels tight and puffy and hot from the crying. Ironic sort of, crying is supposed to make you feel better, but I always feel like shit afterwards.

Either Heero isn't as patient as usual or I've been avoiding longer than I realize. He reaches out to take my hands, just above the wrist, almost the only area from mid-arm down that isn't covered in white of some sort. He draws my hands back to my lap, then lightly touches my chin, lifting my face up so that I'm looking at him. His eyes seem darker in the light, and his mouth is tight though his hands are ever so gentle. He's been… worried.

I swallow and he removes his fingertips from my chin. "Duo, what's going on?"

The tears are pressing against the backs of my eyes now, demanding release, and I sniffle, bringing my left hand up to press against my mouth, up against my nose, and my eyes wander as I force the tears back. Another sniffle and my bottom lip trembles. I hate this. I fucking hate this feeling…

"Do the others know?" I breathe, looking at a spot on the far wall.

"No." He looks in the direction I'm looking, and then focuses back on my face. I can almost feel the heat of his stare. "They dropped me off and left again to exchange the van with a second vehicle they had stowed away. They returned about half an hour after they dropped me off. You… collapsed, or something, after I touched you. I cleaned you up and brought you in here and told them you were sleeping the mission off."

Oh. Good. I guess… not so bad.

Wait, Ara murmurs.

Huh?

Wait. He's leaving stuff out. There's something…

I look back to Heero slowly, studying him through mostly closed eyes.

I get the image in my mind of bloody water and Bailey stirs and shifts uncomfortably as I try and dredge up the last memories I have.

He did something, Bailey murmurs as I dig harder.

What?

You- I didn't- we didn't collapse. He came over and did something. Touched our neck and that's all I remember.

"Duo?"

"Wait."

Heero quiets, watching me closely. I wonder how badly our guard is down, what expressions and changes might be showing on this face.

The floor. It was all wet and there was the bloody water and bloody smudges and…

"Heero? Kitchen?"

He glances away, and then looks back to me. "I told them you broke a glass. I had enough time to get you cleaned up and in bed and I mopped the kitchen down and just told them you broke a glass."

"Oh." I let out a relieved sigh and rub my eyes. Very carefully.

"Now you only have to explain this." He reaches out to touch my hand lightly, lowering it back to my lap. "And this." His fingers brush along the length of the bandage up my arm.

Ara's still worrying in the back of my mind. It's how he handles stress. He analyzes and picks apart things and he's starting to get me jittery.

"What?"

"Duo?"

"No, I-." I can't exactly say, 'not you.'

We only have six glasses.

What?

"They'll notice a broken glass that isn't broken." Ara pulls away after murmuring that, still worrying away, but mind stretches elsewhere now.

"I broke a glass."

That catches everyone's attention. "What?"

"I broke a glass," Heero repeats. "I spilled some juice and dropped a glass, then cleaned it all up properly."

My eyes widen. He really… went to a lot of trouble to keep this private. A lot of trouble.

"You broke a glass?" I murmur.

"I broke a glass. Yes."

"No one's ever broken a glass for me before…"

He gives me an odd look, but I hardly notice. Those damned tears that I managed to push away earlier just won't stop now and I find myself sobbing because Heero broke a glass for me. He spilled some juice and broke a glass and all for me.

His hand touches my back lightly as I hunch forward, sobbing. I'll freak out if he tries to hold me at this point. I don't know how to tell him that. He seems to understand, though. He just rubs my back lightly and I tremble and cry and hate tear ducts and sinuses and just the entire fluids from the face thing in general.

The tears don't last that long. I push them back as quickly as I can, not wanting them to suddenly mutate and become hysterical. I don't have the energy for hysterical.

Heero's hand drops away just before it was about to get uncomfortable. I wonder a moment how he did that until I realize my body was probably starting to tense even before I noticed being uncomfortable. As I sit up straighter Heero silently hands me some tissues and lifts the waste basket up for them. It feels strange, this attention, but also kind of welcome. I got sick of people hovering so much when I was younger – those who know, of course – that people leave me alone now. I'd forgotten that sometimes concern can be nice.

"Duo?"

Oh, yes. That's right. He's waiting for an answer. What was the question?

Bandages.

Right. And I... yeah, don't think I'll be able to explain this one away.

I turn my attention to Heero. "Well."

He waits patiently. I fidget a little. I wonder if this is how it feels to tell someone you're gay…

…It's kind of sad when Ara points out that I'd have a better chance of being accepted this way than if I were gay.

"So…"

"There's also this." Heero taps the journal sitting on the table.

I'd missed seeing it there. I don't know how, but I did. Oh god.

I must have paled. It certainly felt as if all the blood drained from my head and wrapped around my heart, squeezing so that I couldn't breathe. Heero shook his head and nudged the journal a little farther away. "No, I didn't read it, if that's what's bothering you. I wouldn't do that unless I had no choice. As I was bringing you in here I knocked it off the table and it fell. It was open when I picked it up, and while I didn't read it it's kind of hard to miss words jumping out, and even harder to miss five different handwriting styles. There's something not right there." He studies me closely a moment. I can just tell he's getting ready to say something else, something I'm not going to want to deal with right now.

"Out with it," I tell him wearily.

"There's these." He doesn't look in the least apologetic when he leans over and pulls out my medicine bag from the duffel under the table. It's open and he pulls out a pill bottle and gives it a little shake, as if to make his point. And then as if that's not enough he sets that one down on the table and repeats the process until he has all of them there. The yellow of the lamp is casting a sickly glow on the orange bottles, illuminating the pills like little death traps. And then he brings out a single pill and sets it down on top of the bottle that it came from. The Serax I lost that day, I'm sure. Lost it into his bag. That's my kind of life.

"I was wondering where that came from," he explained after a moment.

I sink back into the pillows as best I can and close my eyes, forcing calming breaths into my body.

Now that I'm settling down, that my mind is shifting and moving back into a semblance of normal, I become aware of the things I had not been aware of at first. Heero's weight pulling the side of the bed down, the heat of his body, and the soft sigh of his breath. It slowly dawns on me that the shirt I'm wearing is not my own, but one of Heero's, made of something soft and Prussian like his eyes. A flash of metal catches my attention and I notice the shirt is only buttoned partway up my chest. The cross I normally wear is visible, something it tends not to be for practical purposes.

I look to Heero and then down to the shirt, silently asking a question. He seems like he's going to ignore it and then he relaxes a little, expression losing a bit of its stubborn edge.

"I had no idea the extent of your injuries." He shrugs a little. "To check I had to remove some clothing. And I removed the rest once I settled you in. Be too warm inside with the clothes you were dressed in." He studies me a moment, then seems to decide something. "That's how I found the medications, actually." He picks up one of the bottles, running his fingers over the label though his eyes were a little too unfocused to actually be reading it. "I was looking for a shirt to change you into and this little one was the closest bag. After finding these things and no clothes I decided to just change you into one of my shirts and leave you in your boxers."

"How nice."

"Austin," Heero murmurs, thumbing the childproof side on the bottle. "Austin Maxwell."

I can't help but half smile. It feels odd to be called Austin, even if he's only reading it off the prescription label.

I look away, to that spot on the wall that's not really there. Heero falls silent and allows me to keep mine for the moment. We both seem ready to wait to talk about this. In my case, forever. In Heero's, probably until I need help getting up.

He seems determined, though, to figure me out even if I won't tell him. After not that long at all, really, he reaches out to touch one of my arms, gently taking the wrist and then turning the arm over. There's nothing to see but bandages there, all of the healing cuts and old scars are covered, but he still brushes his thumb lightly along the edge of the new dressing and then up along the side of the arm, where the majority of the cuts are. So gentle, so tender, not what I've come to know at all.

I hope to God Heero doesn't think this is a suicide attempt. Or that those other scars from Meyer were suicide attempts. Both because I don't want Heero to think that of me, and because if he does think it he must think I'm pretty damned retarded or cowardly, trying to kill myself by cutting the side of my arm and just managing to miss the veins.

"Duo." He sighs, then looks up at me. "There is something very big that you're hiding."

"Not very well," I mutter.

"No, I think you've been hiding it too well," he whispers. "Far too well." He brushes along the wrapped arm again. "Self inflicted?" It's a question, but it's also the answer. He knows they very well are.

"Not trying to kill myself," I mutter

I think he finds my touch of defensiveness amusing. He gives me a vague smile. "Hadn't crossed my mind."

"Good." And I'm actually pretty pleased at that.

"I've never quite understood self mutilation…"

I wince. Gods but I hate that term. If I were a cutter I'd stop just so Sandra wouldn't say that to me, but Meyer thinks it's the coolest thing ever and if anything it encourages him to act out.

"Yeah, well…"

"Duo?"

"What's the question?"

He makes a noise of amusement. "I suppose why is the easiest place to start."

Yeah. Easy for him. Not so easy for me. Doubly not easy for me because it's not even really me. But I so don't even want to think about dragging Meyer out here. Poor kid is actually a miserable little ball at the moment.

Could always go textbook on him, Ara suggest helpfully.

I snort internally. He'd just go textbook right back, I bet. And he'd do it better.

Not better than me. Ara sounds smug. I could go textbook at him.

Not better than you, I agree. But no, I don't think that'll get us anywhere.

Your party, then.

And I'll cry if I want to?

Duo Maxwell doesn't cry.

I snort internally again. Someone here sure does, then.

"Duo?"

I sigh. "Sorry. Just- got distracted."

"By?"

What the hell. "The voices in my head."

He smiles faintly. "I'm sure."

"Yup. Always hanging around, talking to me, driving me crazy."

Heero gives me an amused, patient, but definitely _waiting_ look.

"So…"

"Why do you cut yourself, Duo? What's going on?"

I glance at him, then away to a new spot, this one on the blanket. "Well. I don't know." My voice sounds a little shaky and I don't like it, but there's little I can do about it. I decide to try and explain further, but when I open my mouth all that comes out is another, "I don't entirely know."

"Why you do it, or what's going on?"

"Well… mainly the first. I mean, I can tell you the usual thing, right? Someone cuts to express how they hurt, to release the pain, when there's no other options that person can see. When that person is completely hopeless and lost in the face of life. When there's so little else left possible to do."

His expression becomes more serious, concerned. "You feel that way?"

I study my fingernails. They look a little rough. "Not quite."

"Then why?" He touches one of the few scars on the back of my hand, an odd spider web of crisscrossing. Not the single, simple slashes on my arms but obviously deliberate. Hell, Heero's Heero. Maybe he can even tell from the way they look and the angles or whatever that it's self inflicted also.

"These the same thing?" he asks, tracing it oh so gently.

"Sorta kinda," I murmur. I can feel those damned tears trying to come up again. I force them back with a few breaths and I think I'll be able to hold out on them as long as Heero doesn't go breaking any more glasses for me. "Sorta kinda the same, yeah."

He releases that arm and reaches across me to the other. There's less bandaging over here, and the scars that are visible aren't as bad, as rough or as deep appearing. Meyer doesn't have the same kind of control that I do in left hand. Heero traces a few with a slightly rough fingertip, making me bite my lip briefly. I don't get a lot of touch.

He looks up at me. "Definitely not suicide attempts," Heero murmurs. "Why the self mutilation?"

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. And I don't. I've already said the obvious about the pain and helplessness. Whatever reasons Meyer has are his own at this point, though I'm sure Sandra has a better idea than most of us do.

The others are unusually quiet, leaving me on my own to deal with this.

"Duo," he says softly, drawing my name out, chastising lightly.

I can only give a vague shrug.

He seems set to wait, but after a short while he reaches out and picks up the one odd medicine bottle. White instead of sickly orange. He studies the bottle, then looks up at me. "If you're taking Zoloft for that then I'd have to take a guess and say you need a new antidepressant."

Fuck damn. The hell is wrong with me? For some reason that casual, simple comment breaks a gate to my emotions, and I'm fighting back those damned tears again and losing just a little bit more. No sobs, thank god, but I can't stop or hide the tears that try and force themselves out. I'm beginning to feel like a damned waterfall.

I will not cry in front of him. I will not cry in front of him. I will not cry in front of him.

Heero calmly hands me some more tissues. Damned psychotic Boy Scout.

I use them with as much dignity as I can muster and drag in some claming breaths, trying not to suffocate on a lungful of tissue fluff. Seriously, hasn't my day been bad enough? Does God have to try and kill me with tissues now on top of everything else?

Finally there's soft activity in my mind, ranging from discomfort with this situation to anger at Heero that he'd force me into this place of pain. I bite my bottom lip hard and force myself to focus on the present.

Meyer finally makes a real appearance and he seems a little calmer now. He even manages a ghost of a smirk, but that fades away as he murmurs something. Outwardly I glance around, searching, not finding.

"Toby?" I finally whisper, looking up at Heero.

"Pardon?" Heero asks, eyes narrowing slightly.

Oh fuck. Yeah, just what I need, him thinking I'm completely cracked and that I don't even recognize him. Actually… would that get me out of explaining this?

Meyer gives me a hard nudge. Okay, okay, fine.

"The bear," I clarify. "You're Heero. Want Toby. Stuffed, patched, fuzzy."

"Oh. Right." He leans over the other side of the bed and pulls it out from where it seems to have fallen between the mattress and the bed frame.

I take it slowly, trying not to let Meyer's relief wash over me too noticeably. In truth some of that relief is my own. The bear has become pretty damned important to us all, and pretty damned stable in it's utter there and bearness. The familiar weight of it, feel of it, smell of it… though I notice there's a bit more to the smell of it than before, something of Heero as it's something I can smell on the shirt I'm wearing and something I smell on occasion when the wind is right or we're pressed close together.

I look up at him over the top of Toby's head, holding the bear tightly against my chest. "I don't take them often," I tell Heero for explanation, keeping my voice soft and hopefully calm. "The Zoloft, I mean." My voice wavers but doesn't break. Go me.

Heero picks up the first bottle near him thoughtfully, studying it. "Risperdone," I mutter, pressing my cheek to the soft fur of Toby's head. "Blocks out some nerve reception thing, dulls reactions, relaxes the body."

"I know what it is," he informs me, looking a touch amused by my 'some nerve reception thing.' Yeah, well, Ara's the genius. I'm just along for the ride. "So you use it to relax?"

I nod. "Among things."

He gives a nod and I can just tell he's storing the information away until a better time to get more answers out of me. I just hope he doesn't ambush me with it. I, well, we can be pretty unpredictable.

He sets the bottle down and picks up another, studying that one in turn. After a moment he looks up at me. "I'm not actually familiar with this one."

"Anxiety," I answer. "It reduces anxiety." Though sometimes anxiety is your friend, if you'd just pay attention and listen to it when it tells you not to wake up. It knows the Heero is waiting.

Ara hovers a little closer in my mind, seemingly a little worried about me. Bailey's usually the hoverer, but he's sticking to the shadows at the moment.

Heero nods and puts the bottle down, then picks up the next with a small frown. "I am familiar with this. Ambien is… a bit excessive, wouldn't you say? There are much more gentle sleep aids on the market."

"Yeah, well, it's what I've got." Sometimes the market just isn't made for people like us.

He's silent, and it starts to make me nervous as I watch him play with the top of the Ambien bottle.

"All perfectly acceptable to have," I find myself saying. "War is stressful, ya know." This is definitely me, not one of the others. Brain just doesn't appear to be watching the thoughts it's shuffling down to my mouth.

I can see that he doesn't believe what I'm telling him. Hell, I wouldn't either. But he's not about to smash the lie down without something to back himself up with. Yay for predictable. Instead he puts the Ambien down and picks up the journal, something I had forgotten was still sitting there like a coiled snake waiting to strike me when I least expect it.

"I didn't read it," he restates, tossing it onto my lap. "But I most definitely know it's not some sort of 'Dear Diary' type thing."

I look down at the cover, chewing on the inside of my lip until Bailey fusses about it. I whisper at last, "It's personal." And it is.

"Oh." He's silent, thinking. He doesn't seem suspicious, just thoughtful. I never see it coming.

"Austin? Is he the same person that you wanted me to make stop in the kitchen, or is that someone else?"

What the holy fucking hell!

I draw a sharp breath, then try and calm my breathing with slow, deep breaths. Tears again, damn it! And why the hell am I shaking?!

I lean forward slowly against the worn teddy bear, composure crumbling inside and out and slipping through my fingers like sand. I can't even stop the damned whimpering sobs, but I manage to keep them from turning into gushing completely breaking down sobs.

I look up at him through my tears, hating him and loving him for stripping me bare like this, and shake my head slowly at him. "You could never understand," I whisper. "You could never understand."

That doesn't stop him from reaching out to me, though, pulling me against him in a hug I find I strangely desperately seem to need. I was right earlier, though him holding me only manages to break me a little. It doesn't completely undo me like I fear it would have earlier. But the more he holds me the less control I seem to have until I'm just outright sobbing and don't care, don't care at all, and neither does anyone else, just so much not caring and so much sobbing and clinging. This gentle hold gives me permission to be vulnerable, if only for a moment, if only for a night, because someone else will be strong for me. I wrap my arms around him, not caring what he will think come morning, when the sun would cast light on night and not be as kind as darkness, and bury my face against his shoulder, muffling my sobs.

And he lets me sob and grasp and tremble, holding but not trying to make those stupid soothing noises or try to tell me it'll be all right. As the tears begin to slow I give up trying to hold onto some sort of defensive space and I just let him hold me.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" he whispers a while after I've calmed and the tears have stopped falling completely.

There's nothing inside, good or bad, yes or no. Everyone is pretty much letting me decide on this. I'm at once both grateful and irritated. It takes me a couple of deep breaths to decide, and then I pull back slowly.

"Can I get a cup a hot chocolate first?" I ask softly.

"You're not going to run away are you?"

I give him a weak smile and hold up my hands. "Where can I go?"

He nods and gets up, leaving the door partway open to the room. After a moment or so I look around and gather up the blanket covering me, tuck Toby under my chin, and move to the living room couch. It's surprisingly comfy for being a beaten up old thing. Briefly I worry how this will seem, me and a blanket and the bear and Heero and the undeniable tear tracks and…

Ara gently points out that Trowa and Quatre are smart enough to know I wasn't simply 'just stressed and tired' earlier. Quatre, at least, is probably expecting me to have some sort of something tonight. Trowa, too, probably. Maybe even more so than Quatre.

I smile faintly at that. Ara likes Trowa quite a lot, says there's a lot more to the strangely haired person than most people see. Ara's description, of course.

When Heero comes out he's surprised to see me there but allows it just as well – not that I'd have let him move me, but that's another story – and settles next to me. He accepts the blanket half I toss over him and shifts it a little as I arrange and tuck and smooth my half of it. Toby goes on my lap – where he can see everything and feel like he's a part of the conversation, Meyer points out – and I hold the warm cup between my cool hands and stare at the small marshmallows swimming around inside.

"You remembered the marmells," I murmur, looking up at him.

"I fiigured- the what?"

I laugh, relief flooding through me to be temporarily away from all the stress.

"Marmells," I say again, looking back at them. "It's from- when I lived with Father Maxwell. There was a young child there, maybe 4 or 5, and she couldn't say the entire word marshmallows. It kept coming out marmells. And soon everyone was saying it. I guess, well, I guess it's just one of those things you never really lose."

Silence settles between us, strangely heavy and warm as silences go, and he eases closer to me. Or perhaps he's just propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. I place the cup on my knee, balancing it with one hand, and hold out an arm to him. "Could you, the sleeve?"

He nods and slowly begins to unroll the sleeve, securing it at the wrist. It's still big, falling down over my hand and past my fingers a little. It makes me smile. I'm not that much smaller than him so it must be large on him as well. Nightshirt, perhaps. I bring the bunched up sleeve up to my nose and breathe in. Such an interesting scent.

Heero begins to unroll the other cuff. I watch his careful movements, thinking, and then decide to just go for it. Gotta start somewhere, might as well start with the big question of 'what.'

"Have you ever heard of DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder?"

His fingers pause in their work and then continue, much more slowly but no less gently.

"What? That's sort of like amnesia stuff or something?"

"Well, kind of. Maybe fugue amnesia. Weird stuff, by the way." Ara makes a not so polite noise of disbelief. "Not that I've got room to talk," I admit to appease him. "But. Subject at hand. DID is more like Split Personality Disorder. Or more like it is that. Split and Multiple Personality Disorder."

He's quiet enough that I look up from my drink. His movements have stopped, but he still has my wrist in a loose hold. I carefully pull my arm back, steadying my cup with two hands.

"Multiple Personality Disorder?" he says softly, tone asking for me to confirm that as what's going on with me. I won't disappoint now that I'm actually talking.

"Yeah. That in particular. How much do you know about it?"

"Not very much," he admits.

I nod. "That's to be expected. Not many people do know all that much about it, and there are so many unknowns still. It's not as rare as people think though, and from my own studies a person who has it can be in the system for up to 7 years before it's properly identified and treatment can begin. 7 freakin' years. Tend to be treated as schizophrenics or something like that until it's figured out. Unsettling stuff. I was a lucky one, I guess." I give a small shrug, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, letting it rest in my mouth a moment before swallowing.

I let myself slide back into the cushions more, watching his face behind my, well, not impassive mask, but my pleasantly neutral expression, waiting for his interest, his rejection, whatever it is he decides to feel about all this.

He sighs deeply and closes his eyes. While he's is focused someplace else I allow myself to study his face in the soft light, now not wary of his seeing where my attention lies. He looks tired, with small lines around his eyes that shouldn't be there for someone so young. His skin, though, despite all the hard work he does, it still has that generous softness and curve of childhood, reminding all of us that for everything we do we really are still…just children.

I look down at my hands and bring the cup up to my face. The steam is soothing as it drifts upward, bringing with it that sweet chocolate scent.

"You have Multiple Personality Disorder?"

"I do," I say into my cup, watching my breath push the liquid around inside.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I tell him with a slight shrug, looking up at him. I hold back a snort of laughter. Okay as peach pie. "Why wouldn't I be okay? It's not like I'm a babbling idiot or anything. Or, uh. It's not like I'm a babbling idiot in the way of having something wrong with me. Just being weird doesn't sound. I'm- I'm just a little damaged. I guess."

He considers that. I can tell he doesn't get it. "Why don't you explain Multiple Personality to me," he says at last.

"I can do that," I tell him brightly, nodding. "We can do that."

He looks taken aback. "Please don't refer to yourself in first person plural right now."

I nod again. Fair enough. "Okay. Kind of weird, right?"

"Just a little."

I ease back into the cushions, making a little hold for the mug so that I won't have to hold it the entire time, and after a moment I give into Ara's insistence in that he should be the one to explain. I can't even be sure if Heero catches the switch, but then again he doesn't know what to look for yet. I'm sure he will soon enough.

Immediately my entire body relaxes everything feels more comfortable, everything seems brighter and better. Ara smiles at Heero somewhat lopsidedly. It's a part of his charm, something he has more than enough of. Bastard never shares, either.

"All right. You have to understand primarily that Multiple Personality does not mean that a person's insane or that they're crazy. In case studies Multiple Personality is caused by severe child abuse, but it doesn't have to be child abuse, per se, in strict theory. The abuse is just the most likely, and sadly, the most widely occurring catalyst. Whatever the cause is it simply is something so monstrous that the young mind simply will not, or cannot, allow that to be a part of their memory. As they cannot handle this happening a defense mechanism is triggered, in this case dissociation. The main part of the child's mind goes elsewhere, retreats away, and the small part that remains is what takes the abuse or experience. Once the occurrence has passed it's safe for the child to reemerge and the can continue on living without a major disruption to his or her life because they don't remember this horrible action taken against them.

"This is actually normal to a lesser degree, everyone at one point or another dissociates. The difference here is that it happens again, the abuse that trigged it, or something very similar happens. The same defense mechanism is pulled up and used. Pretty soon this small portion that's taking all this pain or anger or fear or whatever it is, that portion begins to develop away from the main part of the personality. In doing so a secondary and entirely separate and new personality is shaped. Each time a section of dissociated mind is drawn up and takes in more experiences it gains more and more of an independence."

Ara picks up the mug and takes a sip, then grimaces slightly at the taste before barreling on before Heero can comment on the expression.

Reaching out he pats Heero's knee. "You're following, right?"

"Yeah. Duo-"

Pressing a finger to Heero's lips Ara shakes his head no. "Let me finish. Now, you have this separate identity off to the side of the original identity absorbing different things, forming different thoughts, feeling in different ways, and having a different outlook. Then, something happens, and this part of the identity," Ara gives the hand still hovering next to Heero a little shake, "isn't equipped or willing to deal with this new situation. But neither is the child. Another part of the mind is used, another dissociation occurs, and what's happened with the first one happens slowly with the second one. And soon enough you have two separate and different personalities completely outside of the main person. With time these identities fade somewhat into the background, when the threat stops basically and they're not really needed. They never really leave, though. They can't. They can't leave or disappear, and in most cases they're formed enough that they just won't fade away."

Ara pauses a moment, thinking, though not long enough to give Heero a chance to speak. "In a lot of cases they don't even entirely leave and they come out on their own, either triggered by new stresses, though usually nothing like what formed them, or they're just independent enough that they want their own time. And then one day something bad happens that the host, or main personality, is actually equipped and able to handle and the personalities realize that they aren't needed as a background defense. Or things start to work out really well for the host and the same realization of not being needed occurs. Either way, once the personalities decide that they're not going to remain in the background there are obviously problems that occur, plenty of conflicts. It can be a rather frightening intrusion for the host, to suddenly find strange things happening. Do you understand so far?"

Heero nods, an odd comedy of interest and unease.

"Good. In time and with help these alternate personalities, called alters, begin to emerge more fully and without fear and they make themselves known to the host in some way or another, either by way odd actions that can't be explained, or acts that have to be treated, like this cutting." Gently Ara rests his fingertips above the bandage along the arm. "Treatment, I'm sure you're curious about that."

Heero nods again.

Ara lets both of his hands drop to his lap and makes himself comfortable, propping his feet up over Heero's lap, giving Duo a little mental 'ha-ha!' "Well, there's integration, and man I'm not too wild about that, if you know what I'm saying. But in integration a therapist and the host and the alters all work to bring together the fragmented parts to make a whole and complete personality. The other option is finding a way to coexist to the point that most people would never ever guess there's anything really different about the person."

Heero seems to struggle a moment for words, then lets out a breath slowly, looking at Ara carefully. "You – you're not Duo, are you?"

Ara shakes his head, pursing his lips, head tilting to the left a little. "I'm Ara," he states at last, holding out his hand. "Understandably we've never been formally introduced."

Heero freezes in place, eyes locked onto Ara. Ara hm'ed mentally about how Heero seemed to be having some trouble looking at Duo's body and knowing it wasn't actually Duo.

Give him a break, I mutter. You'd be shocked too.

Damn straight I would, Ara agrees. After a second he drops his hand and folds his hands in his lap. After another moment he pulls his feet back from over Heero and draws his knees loosely up to his chest. He gives a little shrug. "And this is your cue to ask to speak to Duo again," he says quietly. "And I'll retreat back to where I belong."

That seems to shake Heero out of his stupor, shock, whatever. "Is it?"

"Normally. I'm not blind. I may be seeing through Duo's eyes, but I do see, and I'm thinking with my own mind. I make you uncomfortable, and that's okay and understandable. We tend to make people uncomfortable. But then something interesting happens, if people bother to stick around long enough. Know what that is?"

Heero shakes his head a little.

"People actually get to know us as individuals. And then, wham, we're suddenly not just these strange fragmented, broken parts of the person they thought they knew, but we're actually people. People who think and feel and act differently. And from that point the goal is for people who know us to be able to accept us both as individuals and as this working cooperation."

He turns his head away from Heero, to where the maps have been rolled up and settled on the table, and gives a soft bitter laugh. "Just as soon as we accept ourselves, right?" He cocks his head to one side, listening to the internal murmuring, and then gives a slight nod.

"Yo, Heero, I'll chat with you later." He looks back to him, eyes suddenly sad. "Maybe."

A shiver runs through my body and my eyes close, and then open again. Only takes a moment to place everything where it should be, externally and internally. Yup, lots of practice.

"Duo?"

I give a nod and smile in a tired sort of way, lifting the drink and sipping it despite the fact that it has cooled considerably during the time Ara was out. Mmm, chocolate.

Ara mutters something about me being a freak. Meyer mutters something back about how Ara's the freak when everyone else likes chocolate. I take another sip and enjoy some more cold hot chocolate.

Silence settles between us. I don't really want to say anything I don't actually have to at this point. Heero, well, he probably hasn't the faintest idea of what to say. I sip until the cold hot chocolate is mostly gone, then set the drink down on the table and lean back against the side of the touch, studying him though my lashes and willing to outwait him.

"This won't affect your piloting abilities, will it?"

I pick up the couch pillow beside me and hit him with it, hard, since it's only a pillow. "Sure, it's going to affect my piloting abilities now, just because you know about it. Never mind the fact that I was this way long before you met me. Come on Heero, think, use some common sense."

"I had to ask, okay?" he defends, pulling the pillow from my hands. "It's the first question that came to mind."

I narrow my eyes and pull the pillow back, holding it loosely against my chest. "Fine, that's it, it's the only stupid question you're allotted tonight," I tell him.

"I might as well give up now, because I can think of a lot of stupid questions that I might ask if I stick around," he tells me, standing. I grab his hand, gingerly of course, and pull him back down, against me, and he looks over with a lifted eyebrow.

"Are you really interested?" I ask him softly.

He gives it a moment's thought – and yeah, I actually appreciate that he's got to think about it – and then he nods slowly, letting his body relax against the couch. "Yeah, I'm really interested, Duo. Why don't you tell me what you want me to know?"

Wow, that's not asking for a lot or anything.

But I give a slow nod and rearrange my body so that I'm sitting cross-legged beside him, looking at his face to judge the effect my words have on him. "All right," I begin softly, picking at a loose thread coming up from Toby's leg. Bailey grumbles and Meyer protests and I stop picking and just stroke the fur.

"You just met Ara. Knowing that it's Ara, I mean. You've spent a lot of time around him without knowing it. He's a genius, but he'd never admit it." Meyer sniggers something. Very true. "Actually, I take that back. He does admit it but it's never entirely serious. Usually when he's being a smart ass or teasing or acting smug. Ara being Ara. But yeah. We've all been tested as part of the psychological crap stuff we have to go through." Bailey mentally sighs in exasperation at me. "His IQ is like 189 or 190, around there. If you know anything about IQ scores and stuff that's… well, I'm not even sure how to describe it. I'd say Einstein-like, but he had the common sense of a moth next to a bright light and it always offends Ara any time someone tries to compare them. But pretty much math, science, psychology, machines, computers, all that sort of stuff, child's play for him. What would take me two days to correct on Deathscythe he can do it in half a day. Any number, any problem, he can work it out. He picks up patterns and finds the logic and always connects the dots. I think he speaks, hm, must be seven or eight languages. Mainly learned from hearing it spoken and from books and stuff." I stop and give Heero a chance to process that.

Inside Ara is smug at Heero's rather surprised look.

Not just good looking with a great personality but smart too, Ara quips. I'm the total package.

Except, of course, Bailey points out. That you actually don't have a package of your own to come in.

Bah. Technicalities.

I press on before the ensuing snark and grumble fest draws me in. "So, wow, that said a lot and not too much at all about who he is. He's older than me, for one thing. I'm not sure exactly what, but around 26 or 27. He's more emotional, quicker to lose his temper but equally quick to find it and put it back where it belongs and make everything all right again. He can be quieter than me sometimes and he can be louder, depending on how he's feeling. But whereas I can be pretty quiet when I want to be there's no way I could ever match Ara when he gets loud. All in all the only real problem I have with Ara, and the biggest difference between us, is that he's a freak who doesn't like chocolate."

I'll show you freak, Ara mutters.

Blueberry applesauce!

Ahg! Where?! Get that stuff away- Meyer! You-

I focus on Heero with a smile, trying to ignore Ara's rant about blueberry applesauce. I need to find a way to thank Meyer later.

"He's older than you?"

"Yep. There is no set pattern for what can and can't be. An alter can be male or female, young or old, might need glasses or not need glasses, have a speech defect, be right or left handed, all that sort of stuff. Some might be chronically sick, while the body is perfectly healthy any other time. Another may be allergic to cats and the others have no existing allergies. There are so many unknowns in the mind…" my voice trails off, dropping, and I'm sure Heero picks up the awe from my tone, the wonder about the entire thing. He wouldn't be Heero if he didn't.

And it is damn awesome. Sometimes I just wish it'd be awesome somewhere else.

I give Heero a minute to take that in and make sense of it and while he's doing that I decide another drink is in order. I take the mug back to the kitchen with every intention of getting more hot chocolate, but somewhere in the process of coming and going I end up with a soda. I'm going to blame Ara. Heero's still looking thoughtful when I come back and doesn't seem to notice that I'm trying soda at one in the morning. Go me.

"How is that possible.?" he whispers softly after a moment.

"Buddy, if we knew that we wouldn't be like this," Bailey tells him, sneaking out to twist the top off the soda and take a drink. He's gone by the time Heero looks up.

Ninja! Meyer shouts.

I give Heero a smile. "People have been studying the mind for years and there's still no ready answers for so many things. You live with it, you have no choice."

Another silence as I sip my drink and then put it down, settling in. I can feel the heat of Heero's leg against mine.

Ara gives me a little mental poke and I return it with a little mental eye roll.

"Also, Ara is attracted to guys. I don't know how I forgot that. He certainly never lets me. He-." I change what I'm going to say midway through. Don't think Heero's ready to deal with Ara being quite the bed bunny. "He's a bit flamboyant, at times. So if you ever sees flamboyant, that'll like me him. I'm not quit so dramatic, either."

He nods, looking thoughtful. "You're attracted to girls, then, I take it?" Heero asks. Almost on the heels of his words there's a flash of embarrassment regret uncertainty, like he feels bad for asking a personal question.

I can't help but grin. "Damn, right to the point. Truth is I have no idea. I'm too busy thinking about other things right now, if you know what I mean. I have a lot to work on before I even think about getting into any sort of relationship, whether the person is male or female."

"I didn't say anything about a relationship, I said attraction."

The grin drops into a smile as I let my eyes stray around the room. "I don't know, like I said. There's a lot more on my mind beyond that. I hardly notice things like that. Maybe I can't, you know, maybe Ara can because I can't." My decision doesn't stand very long. "Because trust me, Ara most definitely can and does. A lot. Me, I've never even kissed anyone. I have no idea what I would want for anything short or long-term."

The smile falters and I try to pick it back up, and then decide that I don't have the strength. Maybe it's time for me to bring down some of the barriers and stop pretending.

"I don't think I ever will," I tell Heero, letting my eyes move to his face for a second, and then fixing my gaze back on the bare wall where the maps had been hanging. Even the bulletin board is down.

"Never?"

"No. It seems a lot more trouble than it's worth. And I wouldn't want to make any connections with someone unless they know, and if someone knows they'll never want me."

"Duo-."

"Sometimes I don't want me."

"Duo-."

"I know I shouldn't talk like that," I sigh, interrupting again. Damn, I hadn't meant to say that part about wanting me. I tug at Toby's thread. "It's not healthy or productive. I know. It's just the stress, really, of the week. I'm just so messed up-."

The rest of my words are muffled by Heero's mouth against mine.


	10. 08: The Kiss and Continuing Truth EDIT

Warnings: Language.

AN: Day 6, midnight and after. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

* * *

The Kiss and Continuing Truth

* * *

…Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod…

Think we caught that, Meyer.

Damn! Here I am the one lusting after him since the first moment we laid eyes on him and look who he kissing?!

Keep in mind that maybe some of the things he likes about Duo are your characteristics.

Does that make any difference now?

I can see where Meyer's going with this cutting thing in light of this.

Ara. That was completely unnecessary.

It absolutely was not! Heero, the man of _my_ dreams, is kissing Duo, who's sitting there like he's in a fucking coma or something! I would think the least he should do is somehow _return the favor_.

You know, something tells me Heero's done this before.

I try to ignore the clamor in my mind, desperately seizing onto the smallest details of this kiss. The surprising softness of his lips, the tilt of his head, the slow sure movement of his mouth against mine, warm and wet and gentle. The roughness of his callused fingertips against my cheek, stroking softly before his hand comes to rest.

He pulls back slowly after what seems like forever and barely a second, taking in a deep breath. I realize that I've closed my eyes sometime during. That I'd stopped hearing and knowing anything but the physical. It all comes crashing back into me after he breaks that sweet forever second.

I open my eyes slowly as his hand drops from my cheek, palm soft and warm, untouched by hard work and the labor of war. There is an uncertainty in his eyes, and wariness, but also an unspeakable tenderness I had never realized could be there, in him. Especially directed towards me. _Me_.

"Duo," he breathes.

I lick my lips, wondering if he's testing or just sighing my name. Involuntarily my eyes dart away from his face, down the dark hall, and then back.

Thoughts not my own are crashing in on me. Accusations filled with anger, fear, upset, loneliness and need wash in, threatening to drag me down and drown me, uncertainty and questioning settle above me, a slow pressing weight, and through it all my own turbulent emotions fight to be recognized.

Still, Heero watches my face, now beginning to fidget nervously with my silence. I can't trust myself to speak or move or do anything that would unfreeze my body and possibly give up the loose control I have managed to gather. But how can I explain that?

"Duo?"

His voice, something in it, dissolves that paralyzing hold.

I swallow slowly and look down, breathing in through my nose. His scent steals my attention. Clean, fresh soap, shampoo, but not without that human scent behind it, and beyond that, gunpowder and metal, all mixed with a certain musk that has to be entirely him.

I almost feel normal for once at that moment. The only sounds I can hear are the pounding of my heart and the soft sigh of our breath.

I feel odd, a soft tingling moving up and down my body, his taste against my mouth, and the memory of his lips against mine. There's nervousness and uncertainty coursing through me, but underneath that an unfamiliar but not disagreeable and slowly building pleasure and… is this contentment? I think so. Pleasure and contentment.

And finally my reality completely returns with the force of a crashing plane. Shifting and noise, a general uncertainty and distress about what just ensued.

Ara retreats silently, lost in his own hell of loneliness and desire, nothing but thoughts of forbidden flesh to comfort him. Austin reins things in, quieting and calming, and I know that another kiss would be out of question any time soon. That thought fills me with a strange, foreign longing. And underneath it an unhappy anger that I know is going to bubble up sooner rather than later.

Safety, safety, safety…

"Would you like me to- to tell you about the others?" I breathe, looking down at my hands. I don't really see them but if I look up at all I'll have to meet his eyes and I don't think I can handle seeing the possibilities reflected in them.

Coward, coward, coward…

Yes.

There's a strange, almost neutral silence that lasts long enough that if I didn't feel the heat of his body, the weight of him sitting next to me, see the unmoving form there, I'd think he not there. As it is I'm beginning to wonder if I'm having a little 'episode' and maybe he isn't actually there, but then he speaks and breaks the spell.

He clears his throat softly. "Duo, please," he murmurs. His voice pulls at something that has been settled dormant in my heart until now. "I-what just happened." He hesitates, voice dropping a little more. "Should I not have?"

My breath catches and I turn my head, looking away. When I'm able to breathe again my breath comes shallower. "No," I whisper slowly, drawing the word out. I take in a slow breath. "It- it was fine, I liked it."

So very much.

Even not looking at him I can just tell his attention has sharpened, becoming more focused and thoughtful. Something in my tone must have caught his attention. "You liked it, but someone else didn't?" he asks.

I give a slight nod, biting down into my bottom lip, heart pounding, afraid of how he'll react, of what he'll think, of silly things that make no sense. My eyes dart over to him, catching his stare, and I don't look away from his surprisingly warm and understanding eyes. I want him to kiss me again, to feel that firm softness of his lips against mine. Oh, but I know better. I dare not ask.

"It's okay," Heero tells me softly, reaching out after a moment to let his fingers ghost across my cheek tenderly. "I understand." He's silent briefly, and then gives me a little nod that says he can let this have happened and pass by us without it changing what we've managed to build and without taking away from it. "Why don't you tell me about the others?"

'I understand.' No, I don't think he does. He can never really understand, not this, no matter how perfect he is. But that's okay. I never want him to have to understand. It's a personal pain that I wish onto no other.

I nod, breathing in deeply and releasing the pent up air from my lungs. I hadn't even realized I'd been holding it there.

Easing back down against the cushions I pet Toby a moment, and again reassured by the mere touch and by what it represents. And then to my surprise I feel Heero's warm fingers brush against my own. I look down at my hand, watching as his familiar hand covers my own, the fingers sliding between mine, holding onto my hand gently. It is oddly reassuring, and comforting, and after a second I squeeze gently, once, to let him know what that simple touch means to me. I bring my eyes back up to his face, smiling slightly.

"Well." My voice is barely a whisper and I realize how dry my mouth has become, how parched my throat. I reach for my soda and take a slow drink, assessing my state while I do so.

The others have gone silent toward me, taking stock of the situation, of the damages, of so many things that I can't keep up with the thoughts and feelings and emotions that move past me as if I'm in a cloud. At the moment I don't really care. It's happened, let the pieces fall where they will.

"Ara," I breathe, eliciting a nod from Heero. There's more I could say, but I'm feeling more than a bit uncharitable at the moment, and more than a little pissy about how Ara can sleep with anything male on two legs, and sometimes even a female, and yet he's off sulking at my first kiss.

I take in another deep breath, let it out slowly. "Austin. Austin is timeless, young and ancient all at once. When I think of him I always have this impression of a very young ordinary man, but when he turns to look at you his eyes are completely black, no white, no pupil, just black, and inside of his eyes you can see the entire universe." I give a little laugh, smiling sheepishly. "I know it sounds silly," I admit. "But that's just the way I feel. He's so reserved and mysterious, there's so little I know about him, that any of us know about him. He's just there, keeps his eyes on everything. And protects. He protects me, protects us, keeps us safe, no matter the price.

"He's smart, though no where near Ara. Aloof, detached, cool. Our psychologist appointed him to keep things moving, to give us a semblance of control, because he has an amazing determination and will, cold but always fair." I stop, licking my lips slowly, thinking about how to continue with the mystery that is Austin. In my mind I hear Meyer whisper the words, "A killer." I must have echoed them. Heero tilts his head to one side, quizzical but not intruding. I give a little shrug.

"It's like there's nothing inside of him," I explain. "No essence, no soul."

Heero gives a nod. There's a flash of expression on his face I can't read, but something in it nudges me to move off of Austin.

But hoo boy, the other two left to talk about…

Hey!

Hay's for horses, Mey. Oats are cheaper and grass is free-

Save your hay, you might marry a jackass someday, Meyer cuts in, sounding un-amused. Though it must be noted he took particular delight in saying the word jackass.

I focus back on Heero, tuning out Meyer's grumbles.

I look just past his face, eyes trained on a spot just over his left ear. This will be easier to get through without seeing his expression. My voice is slow and even, carefully not betraying my own emotions.

"Bailey." I give a little sigh. "Bailey's the one you found in the kitchen scrubbing the floor. OCD, you know. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. So, you know, in my defense, that first day and all the cleaning stuff I dragged in there – I didn't spill anything. He was making the room safe to stay in. Safe for him anyway. Totally new sheets, pillowcases, turned the mattress over, vacuumed, scrubbed down the desk and dresser and bedframe." I shrug slightly. "You may have noticed unnecessary hand washing on occasion, or obsessive straightening, the washing the dishes every night. I wasn't just doing my part, not that I wouldn't anyway, well, you know what I mean. That was all him. And of course the kitchen incident."

I stop, but I'm not done. Heero must sense it because he doesn't start to speak. I almost wish he had because it would have broken into my thoughts and I could have moved on to something else.

Might as well start with something a bit more simple. "We're not– He's not always that bad, mind you. I'm sure everyone would sure as hell have noticed all of that cleaning and doing and straightening. Usually he'll have little moments but it's nothing very noticeable. And usually when he's in a twitchier mood we can manage to avoid being around other people. Not so lucky this time, though."

I take a deep breath, looking down at the table. A small bead of water slides down the side of the soda and then onto the table, joining the small puddle of condensation already there forming a ring.

"Stress triggers the severity of his reaction," I continue, much quieter. "That's the third time that he's snapped like that. The first time Dr. G found me, and I had no idea what I had been doing. That's when he took me to see the psychologist, when I found out the voices in my head weren't normal. The second time I was barely aware of it, like I was floating above myself, watching my hands work until the brush and floor were tinged pink with my blood. I must have passed out; the only thing I remember after that was sitting on a cold table while someone bandaged my hands, my voice speaking calmly and coolly to the person. And then this last one."

I don't realize that I've started to cry until Heero's fingers brush the tears from my cheeks. I turn my head away, lifting my arm to wipe my face against my sleeve.

"This last one," I continue, voice shaking just slightly. I stop, though, looking back to Heero, eyes pleading for him to tell me I don't have to say any more.

"Are there any others?" he asks softly.

I nod, picking up the soda and taking a sip, letting the warm liquid rest in my mouth a moment as I breathe through my nose. Swallowing I bring the sheet up to my face and wipe at my eyes.

"Meyer," I say slowly, hugging the bear close again. "Toby is his, the mangas are his, the games. He's 9 or 10, 11 at the very oldest; none of us can be more specific about his age because the background on him is so shaky at this point. He's a child, but he isn't. You have to get to know him to understand, to truly see. He hates the dark, dark places are bad, enclosed spaces are bad. He has a very bitter outlook. If someone gets close to you they're either going to hurt you or they're going to leave you somehow. Nothing's ever just given to you, there's always a price to be paid." I pause a moment, thinking.

"He's been hurt. Not sure how, but he has. Deep inside he's very sad and very frightened and very insecure, but he hides it with cruelty and anger and violence. He's destruction, with the cutting," I gesture loosely to my arm, "And with his constant threats to me, to those I try and get close to. Hardly a day goes by without him making some leading comment about my death or about being seriously injured, but when things do happen… He likes the thought of it, and he likes causing the pain with the cutting, but he doesn't like the uncertainty of my being hurt otherwise. Still…"

I blink my eyes rapidly to fight the tears that are trying to force their way out, laugh coldly, shaking my head. "Between him and Bailey…" I trail off.

Heero's warm hand comes up and touches my face again. "Duo." Such a soft whisper.

I sniffle and let out a heavy breath and manage to keep control of myself.

"That's who they are pretty much, the many pieces that make me up." I let out another laugh, leaning back into the cushions with a tired sigh. "It's good to have that off my chest, you know. Good to have someone else who knows so I don't have to hide who I am all the time. But it's also so scary," I confide in a whisper. "Someone knows now, it's not all in your head, you can't deny it any longer. What if they don't accept.?"

I look to the far wall, not really seeing it. "Or worse, what if they do…?"

I look back to Heero's face, eyes widening, feeling a sudden burst of emotion overtake me. "But they're there, they really are," I tell him almost urgently, my hand rubbing along the sheet, causing a slow burn to start under the bandage, the gauze rubbing the raw skin.

"Duo." Heero reaches for my hand, taking it in his, stopping the compulsive movement.

"They are there," I tell Heero again. "I'm not going insane, they exist. When I first started therapy, gave a name to what I had, I hit denial like a brick wall. So to prove to me that I wasn't just imagining it they did this video tape therapy stuff, where they taped each of the alters and then I watched the tape afterwards. It blew my mind. It's so unbelievable, so absolutely fucking unbelievable, to see myself just- talking, laughing, moving, and knowing it's not me, that I'm not doing it. But it's terrifying." I stop, breathing hard.

Heero brings both of my hands together and covers them with his, resting our folded hands on Toby's middle. I run my thumb against the fur, licking my suddenly dry lips.

"It's terrifying," I repeat, a breath above a whisper. He just continues to hold my hands in his.


	11. 09: Leave Taking EDIT

Warnings: Language.

AN: Day 6, Sunday, morning. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

Timeline Note: Information retrieval mission occurred on Friday night instead of Saturday as they had originally planned. The change of day is not stated but I think it may be subtly implied, or maybe I only thought to imply it and didn't. Thus the sequence of events occurs thusly. Do let me know if someone spots a goof on my part. I like things to be realistic.

Friday (day 4), major storm occurred that slowed by late Friday night. Late Friday night, information retrieval mission.  
Saturday (day 5), afternoon, weather had cleared for the day and church mission occurred.  
Sunday (day 6, as its midnight and after), very early morning, the truth about Duo came out.

Originally they planned to wait Sunday out (day 6) and leave Monday. Heero decides it would be better to leave Sunday morning for Duo's sake, before the storm. And that's where we are.

* * *

Leave Taking

* * *

I yawn and tuck the journal into the small bag, along with the pouch holding the medicines, and then stand up slowly, stretching, arms high above my head. Movement catches my attention and I see Heero has stopped in the doorway, eyebrows drawn together in thought as his eyes scan the room. And then his attention stops on me and he gives me a thoughtful look up and down that's part overall concern and part something more like gentle curiosity and considering interest. It's strange to be aware of his intense eyes moving over me, and just knowing that there's more behind the looks, if only in potential, than that of a fellow fighter or even friend. I feel heat rise to my face.

"You ready?" he asks after a few more moments, folding his arms lightly over his chest, his eyes lingering on studying my face.

I nod and tuck the escaping strands of hair behind my ears, suddenly self- conscious. Not even Austin had been able to pull it back correctly with the bandaged hands, much to his consternation. The uneven, sloppy braid I'm too tired to care about. But this other thing…

I'm a messy, lumpy-braided, wispy-haired, clothes rumpled, eyes shadowed, unpleasantly pale, bandaged, blushing mess. Heero's not allowed to look at me like that when I look like something not even the cat would drag in.

"Quatre and Trowa are leaving tomorrow," Heero tells me. "They'll lock up and make sure everything is in its place."

I glance around the room, giving it an assessing glance of my own, as Heero steps into the room. He picks up my larger duffle by the door and then comes over to me and nods to the smaller one, expression not one of 'can I' but 'is it ready.'

"I can get my stuff," I tell Heero, maybe a touch defensive, reaching for the bag before he can grab it. He pushes my hand away gently.

"I've got it," he tells me. "I'm dressed to go out in the weather and you're not yet, so no reason why I shouldn't take it out while you finish getting dressed." His mouth quirks. "And besides, your hands need a break."

I give a slow nod and he pecks me on the cheek, turning and taking my bag with him. Pressing the back of my hand lightly to my cheek I sink down onto the bed. Damn but Heero is always managing to surprise me. I wonder just how he's seen our relationship change that he'd be so comfortable as that. I wonder just how much our relationship _has_ changed. But the wondering of it accomplishes little.

I lean down to pick up my boots and pull them on, though the laces cause me a bit of trouble and I end up securing them more loosely than I'd prefer. Heero either moved far quicker than I would have guessed or I took far longer with the laces than I thought because I'm just straightening up when he calls my name from the front room. I call back an acknowledgement as I stand, gathering Toby against my chest, and I make my way to the door. In the doorway I stop and turn to give the room a last look over.

The rumpled blue sheets and pillowcases we'd brought will be left behind. A usual occurrence. One of Bailey's peculiarities. Aside from those, and I think maybe some missing blankets depending on what Heero did with the several he left with, there will be no lasting sign of our having been here.

The little shelves below the bedside table look strangely bare without my things in it, as does the surface with only its lamp. The spotless surfaces of the table and desk and dresser will soon be home to an ever-growing layer of dust, at least until the cabin is rented out again and someone comes by to tidy up a little. Not that we'd rented it, I reflect with a snort. Heero had just made sure no one else would be during our time.

No one who uses this cabin for years to come will ever have the faintest clue about the events that transpired here, the words said, the acts planned, the secrets bared, or the futures decided.

I smile a little to myself.

That's just fine by me.

Still smiling I close the door to the room and join Heero in the living room. He and Trowa are quietly discussing something and Quatre is at the edge of their 'group' looking at them and glancing over at the hall every few moments. When he sees me he comes over with a gentle, very Quatre smile and settles next to me with a gentle, very Quatre half hug.

"I want us to all get together sometime, when we're not busy trying to fight the evil in the world," he says quietly, eyes shining like a little kid's. I really can't help but like Quatre. I give him a nod, smiling all the more when he reaches out to finger Toby's ratty ear. I can tell he's curious but I can also tell he won't ask. Hell, with the way he's rubbing and smoothing the ear he's probably got a stuffed animal tucked away somewhere himself.

We are so macho!

It takes a lot of control not to snigger at Meyer's exclamation.

"Try to keep in touch," Quatre continues. "And get some sleep. From what I hear you need it. And be more careful too," he chides, tapping me on the nose. "You're just lucky that glass didn't really cut you up."

My smile falters a little and I glance at Heero, and then back to Quatre. I can sort of guess what story Heero gave him, but not knowing the exact details makes me a little uneasy. Not that it's Heero's fault, what with the way last night went.

"He told us, don't worry." He pats the bear's head lightly. Oh yeah, Quat's definitely got his own tucked away somewhere. "All that stress and everything, just in general. And then, well, yesterday. I know how it is. Especially with us, right? Especially with the cheap glasses they have here." He rolls his eyes. Double oh yeah, the lil' pampered prince is still squirreled away somewhere in everyone's favorite blonde. "Actually kind of surprised one of us hasn't managed to break or chip or crack something before now."

I nod. I can totally understand that. Though in my case it was more of a worry that Meyer would break or chip or crack something and irritate the hell out of someone.

"Yeah. Definitely not the Ritz, eh?"

Quatre snorts, still patting Toby's head. "No, definitely not."

Meyer pokes me and then pokes me again, muttering about Toby. I grumble at him, but agree.

I grin at Quatre. "So, Quat, seeing as how you've been feeling him up for the past couples minutes, might as well introduce you two properly, huh?"

He gives me a confused look for a moment, and then pinks ever so slightly before laughing. "That sounds like a good idea."

I stop clutching at Toby around the stomach and legs and hold him loosely around his back, presenting him properly. "Quatre, I'd like you to meet Mr. Tobias. Toby to his friends and relatives. Though at one point in his life the poor thing was called Tobby."

Hey!

I snicker inwardly at Meyer's indignant exclamation. Not my fault, kiddo, if you named the bear Tobby.

Quatre laughs. "Well then. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tobias. And congratulations on your name change."

"Oh, I think its safe enough for you to call him Toby."

"Excellent. I've always wanted to say I know a Toby."

"And now you do."

"Duo." Heero gives me an odd look of amusement. "We'd better go."

"Looks like we're off. And yeah, we'll have to keep in touch."

"Hugs," Quatre insists, giving me another one. Must be all those sisters of his. Not that I'm complaining. I more than happily give him a hug back, and then hold out Toby with a serious look.

"The bear, too."

"Of course." He gives Toby a hug and hands him back, then taps the bear on the nose. "You two take care." He follows me as I make my way towards Heero. "And you drive safely," Quatre tells Heero sternly. "And be careful. Keep an ear on the news."

"Of course."

Quatre sneaks a quick hug in on Heero and then pulls back with a pleased smile. I give Trowa a friendly nod. Don't know him so well as Quatre, but he's an all right guy from what I've seen. Just not quite at the hugging each other point. Though an imp of mischief gives me a tickle and I can't resist giving in.

"And the bear wants a hug from you, too," I tell Trowa.

Trowa gives me an odd look, but it's tolerant enough, maybe even a touch amused. And he accepts the held out bear to give it a gentle hug, then holds it closely as if it's something delicate and small and important. "I'll keep him company while you put on your jacket."

With a grin I let Quatre help me with that – honestly, he can be such a mother hen, I am so going to blame all those sisters of his, can't be healthy, being surrounded by that much estrogen – and then I accept Toby back. Trowa gives me a companionable shoulder pat/clasp thing and then gives me a little push to the door. I take the hint and head out to join Heero.

The jeep is on the snowy drive by the shed/garage thing and I just stop to stare at it.

The hell…

Um, yeah, that's kind of… not the same vehicle…

I had a brownie in the glove box!

You what?

Shut up. Everyone. Weird new jeep, no brownie.

"Going to stand there all day?" Heero asks, straightening up from where'd he'd been leaning over, putting bags in the backseat.

"Where the hell did this jeep come from?"

He gives what amounts to a grin. "Been here all along. Same jeep."

"No way. Totally different color. And the other jeep had a different body shape."

Heero nods in agreement. "But it's the same jeep."

"Where's the brownie?" Meyer demands.

"What?" Always priceless seeing Heero taken aback by something.

"There, uh, was a brownie in the glove box. Apparently. Of the other jeep."

"Ah." He goes around obligingly and digs in the glove box, and what do you know, there's a plastic wrapped brownie in there.

Yay, same jeep!

"Okay, so it's the same jeep. I'm going to get in now because it's cold and you can explain why the same jeep is a different jeep."

And someone can explain why there was a brownie in the glove box.

My browwwwnie.

And someone else can explain how the hell Meyer, of all people, managed to sneak a brownie into the glove box without Heero noticing.

Hey! Wanna know what I want someone to explain?

What's that, Meyer?

Why the hell are there no gloves in our glove box!?

I shake my head slightly and buckle in as Heero starts the jeep up. I let him have until he's navigated off the driveway onto the small, secondary road that will lead to the main one before I make a questioning jeep.

"Yes, the jeep. Magnetic body pieces. They're more of a movie prop, but they've been reinforced so they're not as noticeably cosmetic. Put them on and the vehicle has one shape, take them off with the special tool and it has another. As for the color, the jeep is actually white. I had a red paint on that can be removed with a pressure washer and a little bit of patience." He shrugs, then shakes his head with something like disgust. "Basic human nature. Different appearance, must be a different jeep." He gives me an apologetic smile. "Even you thought it was," he points out.

"Yeah. Damn. And wow."

That is so cool.

Totally.

Rather interesting, yes.

Austin snorts in disgust that we didn't notice, even as he mentally records the information for later. Ara points out that we're not exactly operating with all systems at the moment.

Heero glances over several times to eye me and I finally give him a questioning look.

"It's a long trip," he says after a moment. "And you only have had about three hours sleep. Why don't you get some sleep? You can crawl into the back seat; I brought a blanket with us, from the cabin. It's clean, freshly washed."

I smile a little, glancing back and then to Heero again. So he did. And now that he mentions it I am pretty damned tired. "Thanks, Heero."

"No problem."

Bailey twitches a little about us not wearing a seatbelt as I unbuckle ours and then crawl between the seats into the back. But the very real near exhaustion we're feeling even quiets him and he moves onto nattering about not putting our boots on the seat. I let him have at getting them off, and then it's a small matter to shake out the blanket and curl up under it, tucking it around us as best I can and using Toby as a pillow. Meyer mutters a little complaint but I tell him to zip it, and then I have to tell him to just freakin' shut up as he starts to make zipping noises.

"Don't let me sleep too long," I tell Heero. "Got to get some sleep tonight."

"Don't worry." He glances back briefly, smiling a little. I can't see the rearview mirror, but I can tell he glances up at it a few more times before I finally let myself snug in and close my eyes and get some much needed rest.


	12. 10: Roadblock NEWCHAP

Warnings: Maybe language.

AN: Day 6, Sunday, late morning. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

* * *

Roadblock

* * *

"Duo. Wake up. Duo. Don't make me start throwing out random names. Up."

I groan at Heero's insistent voice and sit up blearily. "Jus' wan' sleep."

"I'm sure you do. But even if you hadn't said to wake you up I need you to get up. I just heard on the radio they've set up roadblocks on all the major roads."

"Fuck." I wake up quick, rubbing my eyes and shifting to learn forward into that space between the two seats. "Any idea where?"

"Not exactly, no. But they've said enough that I know they're set up around the towns throughout the mountain, and I know the nearest real town is about a fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, away. Awake now?"

"Don't be an ass. You know I am." I climb back over the seats and settle in, buckling up and then rubbing my eyes again. "Damn. In an area like this, and with that damn storm coming…"

"I know. Not so easy to get around the roadblocks on the back roads." Heero scowls. "And even if we had the time this area is too damned undeveloped. The maps have all of the major roads and the larger secondary roads and nothing else. We don't have the time to get hopelessly lost. And it's just not feasible to try it on foot."

"How come we didn't hear anything before now on the radio?"

"I'm going to assume it's been a combination of the terrible reception here and the fact that I've been switching channels to try and find any sort of news."

"Lovely."

"So, I'm open for suggestions. The only safe course of action I can think of would be to return to the cabin, but that might end up making things worse. In a lot of ways."

Yeah, if we go completely crazy or something. Crazy us. Rar.

Meyer, not the time.

Rar.

Meyer.

Done now. Rar. No, really, done. Promise.

I rub my temples with my fingertips. "Okay. What are they saying exactly?"

"Not much. They know they're looking for younger people, but it sounds like they're thinking early twenties. They know that they're looking for at least three males. They have some satellite images of the jeep but we were quite careful about that, so all they have is a vague color and the shape."

"Well, at least something is working in our favor."

"They only suspect the jeep, though. They're very definitely looking for the van Trowa and Quatre had. So that works in all our favors."

"Fabulous."

"But at the same time we _are_ young males traveling together to a place that doesn't really have any interesting pursuits and we don't have any documentation showing where we stayed. We also don't have anything with us that would be something a couple of teenagers would bring with them. No sleds or skis or snowshoes or anything. We'll need a hell of a cover story to make it through the roadblock, if we decide to try."

"Don't think we have much choice."

"Neither do I."

"A hell of a story," I agree. "Hell of a story. Absolutely can't let them search the jeep"

"No, we can't," Heero agrees a little grimly.

"Well. Let's try and brainstorm, and while we're doing that I'm going to make a mess in the backseat."

"What?"

"Mess in the backseat. Couple of teen guys driving around, hanging out, doing who knows what. No way the jeep's going to look this clean. And shut up, Bailey, I'll let you clean it later."

"That's still weird," Heero mutters, though he doesn't sound disturbed.

I unbuckle and climb back into the backseat. Getting quite the workout.

And letting Heero have some nice glimpses of our ass.

Ara, you're thinking with the wrong half. Serious situation. Put that Einstein shaming brain to work.

Yessir!

"Heero, you got anything in your bag that might be of help here?"

"I'm not really sure what would be of help, so I don't know."

"Do I have permission to root around in your bag looking?"

He glances in the rearview mirror then hms agreement.

Hey, I've got a sketchbook!

Ara, what the hell does that matter?

Sketchbook is cool and normal and stuff. Pull it out.

Sketchbook might be cool and normal and stuff, as you put it, if it weren't filled with flowers and unicorns and mobile suits eating pies. There is seriously something wrong with you.

I like pie!

Meyer's exclamation actually makes me stop rooting around in our bag for a moment, then I shake it off and start pulling out stuff.

Meyer, I seriously love you, I tell him as I'm digging out mangas and comic books and piling them up on the seat.

Wha?

Seriously. Just accept it.

Oookay. You're weird.

"Totally."

"Duo?"

"Just talking to… Yeah, saying I'm talking to myself takes on a whole new meaning now, doesn't it?" I toss the handheld video game onto the seat and follow it with my rock CDs, but decide Bailey's classical and Ara's dance probably won't look quite so convincing of the image I'm working on.

"Just a bit," Heero agrees. "So was that you talking to yourself, or talking to one of your selves?"

I can't help but snigger. "Selves." I spare a moment to pat him on the shoulder. "You are going to be a seriously cool friend now that you know, aren't you?"

"Eh."

"Okeydoke. Going to stuff this bag under the seat now. And yeah, so don't think I'll be taking out Ara's books. Not going to work. Damn, wish I had like twenty brownies and some chips and stuff. Soda, too."

"What?"

"Teenage boys, snacks, soda, just goes together. As far as I can tell."

"Ah."

I finish my artful randomness of comic books, manga, CD's and little handheld video games. With a silent apology to Toby I gather him up in the blanket and then arrange the blanket in a wadded up bundle on the other seat.

"Let's see what Heero's got," I mutter as I pull his bag up and begin to root around, trying to be careful of his organization and neatness but also trying to get everything in place as quickly as I can.

Ara! Any ideas?

If I had a gallon of peanut butter…

"What?"

"Huh?"

I grimace at Heero's bag. "Nothing. Just- lots of nothing."

Ara, peanut butter?

Yeah… But no, really, forget the peanut butter. Gone, no butter of peanuts. Still working on our problem. I mean, best I can figure is couple of buddies out doing stuff, but yeah, you're missing the accompanying cool stuff. What you do have is more than a few guns and probably some other badass naughty stuff that really shouldn't be found.

No fucking kidding.

I'm working, I'm working.

"Dude, Heero…"

"Yes?"

"You've got fuzzy purple socks."

"…I know."

"That's beyond awesome."

"Glad you think so," he says dryly.

"But really, begs the question, why do you have purple socks?"

"Why do I have yellow sneakers?"

"Heh. Actually, now that you mention it, why the hell _do_ you wear yellow sneakers?"

"Full marks for personality, but you lose _majorly_ on fashion sense," Ara pops out with.

"What?"

"Um, not me. Question, yes. Fashion sense, no. Question?"

"I get the feeling being around you will sometimes feel like watching a high speed tennis match."

"Could be."

"Anyway, the answer should be obvious. Because they're comfortable."

"Ah. Yes. Obvious." I continue to root around. "Heero, man, do you not have anything fun in here?"

"Laptop."

"Yeah. That. Probably best not to pull that out."

I find some granola bar things after a bit more and decide it's at least something so I toss them into the front seat. I follow those with my shoes.

Austin gives me a little nudge and I give a hm of agreement and root around in my bag for a long-sleeve shirt that'll be baggy enough the sleeves will cover my bandaged hands.

…If push comes to shove, Bailey points out as I strip off my sweatshirt and the shirt underneath to change. You can always let them get a glimpse of it and work it into your story. It's quite obvious that it's self inflicted. I'm sure you could get some sort of story out of it.

I make a face of distaste but I'm forced to agree that if we really get desperate to prove ourselves harmless that it just might work. Or at least harmless to other people.

"Heero."

"Hm?"

"Do you really have fun stuff on your laptop, like games and stuff?"

"Yes."

"That you actually play?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Duo."

"Yeah?"

"Story?"

"Eh. Couple of fun loving guys out hanging around. Could say we were staying with friends. Or at a friend's cabin. But that's about all I got." I scramble up into the front seat again and kick the shoes to the floorboard and shove the snacks into the drink tray. I get the handheld game system up and running and set it in the drink tray as I get myself settled back in and buckled back up. Or buckled down. There's seatbelt and buckling involved, anyway.

"That's the best you got?"

"Got anything better?"

"…No."

"Yeah, didn't think so." I rub my eyes again. "Got a gallon of peanut butter?"

"What?"

"Gallon, peanut butter, have any you."

"Somehow a no doesn't seem the appropriate answer to properly express how completely bewildered I am by how peanut butter will help us."

"Wish I knew." No peanut butter, Ara.

Doing brain work. Go away.

I flip the mirror down and make a face at myself. "Damn I look awful."

"You look fine."

"Just awful."

"You're just sort of… rumpled."

"And awful. But at least I don't look exhausted now. But my hair's a disaster."

Heero grunts. I flip the mirror up and groan under my breath. Town's in view, there's a line of several cars on the road, and there is most definitely a roadblock set up. The guys manning the block look young and a little bored, so I figure that'll either work in our favor or work against us, depending on just where they are in their boredom.

"Nothing new?"

"Fresh out of ideas. But Ara's muttering to himself so it might get promising."

"Hm."

"He's good at those spur of the moment flashes of inspiration. He can beat your ass in chess in like five moves or something but put him really on the spot and he gets weird sometimes."

I heard that.

Damn straight. Now get to thinking.

As we join the line of cars I notice that one of the young guys is in fact a young woman. Even with all of the heavy clothing I'm surprised I didn't notice before now. She's sort of delicate looking.

And so are we, Bailey points out.

I'm not delicate.

Slim and fine-boned, then.

Whatever.

"Names!"

Heero gives me a weird look. "What?"

"We need cover names."

"Ah. Ewan for me. Sounds enough like Yuy that I respond to it more naturally."

"Of course. I'll go with Max."

"All right."

How predictable and boring, Ara sighs.

You're not allowed to have opinions. Your brain sucks.

"No ideas from Austin? Max."

"Yikes. Try Maxie or something. Max sounds weird coming from you."

"Maxie."

"Better. And no. Austin's more the plow it down and kill it dead type."

Man… you sound like one of those girly products from the TV that guys shouldn't have to hear about.

Meyer, shut up.

Too bad Ara can't slut his way past them, Meyer sniggers.

Meyer!

Hey, if it's a damned horse call it a horse. Ain't lyin'.

Actually…

Uh oh. I don't like that actually, Ara.

I've got an idea…

Out with it, then! We're the next car!

Gotta let me out, though. No way in hell you can pull it off. But you and Cutie over there can say you were off on a romantic weekend.

…the hell? You can't seriously think that will work?

Chicks dig it. And we're hot together, if I don't say so myself.

"Hee- dude. Ara says we should act like we're together. Couple together."

"What?"

"Romantic type weekend. Or something. I don't know. Its last minute but he's good at last minute brilliance."

Heero makes a vague noise. "I wouldn't know what to do."

"Well. If you trust me- trust us, then just… stay relaxed. I don't think I can pull it off but Ara says he can. Let him do the talking and act natural. Natural'ish."

Heero's quiet moment.

"He will behave," I tell Heero, though it's more directed at Ara. "Won't try and jump you or anything. Probably just lean all over you and stuff."

Unfortunately, yes.

"He says that's all he'll do."

"What the hell," Heero mutters as we're waved forward.

I breathe out deeply and then let Ara take over with a little twitch. I'm about to give Ara some serious shit when he pulls the tie off the braid and it starts to unravel, but I have just enough time to give Ara a poke and warn him to behave before Heero's rolling the window down and the female peers into the jeep.

"Sorry to disturb your morning-."

"No problem at all," Ara interrupts, shifting over as far as the console in the center allows and leaning in the rest of the way to lean against Heero's shoulder, still playing with the almost completely loose hair. "We caught the tail end of the report thing on the radio but haven't heard anything since. Everything okay? Sounds pretty big."

"Everything's under control. Does this vehicle belong to one of you?"

And maybe Ara has some sort of idea of what he's doing with the hair. I'll still give him grief later, but not so much. The irritation and bother of it is worth the way Heero's eyes keep drawing back to it, expression more gentle.

"Sure does!" Ara gives Heero's shoulder an affectionate little nuzzle, prompting Heero to give him a slightly amused look. "Birthday present last year. From his parents, of course."

I ease back a little when I note the slight softening of the woman's expression. Though I don't let go completely. The man beside her is looking even more unhappy now, if that's possible, given his grouchy expression when we stopped.

Ara gives another chipper answer and sits back to pull the registration from the glove box. Heero reaches out to comb his fingers through the hair, pulling it even more out of the last remains of the braid.

"Hey, my brownie! Ewan, are you hiding my sweets again? Well, it won't work now. I've discovered your new hiding spot. Silly boy." Ara tsks as he hands the registration to the woman and when she accepts it he leans in and kisses Heero's cheek.

Meyer mutters dire things about people who try to eat his brownies until I remind him that Ara hates chocolate.

"One does what one can to keep you calm," Heero murmurs, handing a license over to go with the registration.

"What are you boys doing in the area?" the woman asks as she glances the two things over, eyes jumping back up to study them. Or more specifically, to gaze at all of the loose hair.

Yeah, yeah, I tell Ara. Good move on the hair. Now pay attention.

"Oh, it was great!" Ara props an arm up on Heero's shoulder, leaning against him again. "We came up with some friends and they got this cabin they rented way, way up about a hundred twisting roads back, which, by the way, these roads are just all sorts of scary and crazy. Are you from this area? People from this area don't seem bothered by them at all but where we come from there's hardly so much as a hill, let alone a mountain, so all these back and forth and twist and turn and good lord those sheer drops off the sides of the road? And don't even get me started on all this snow. My god. But it's where my baby wanted to go." Ara gives Heero an adoring smile, one of his hands sneaking out to take Heero's, thumb stroking the back. "So here we are. And it wasn't so bad. Sledding was kind of fun and stuff, even if falling off into the snow kind of sucked and then you're all covered in snow and you're going to get wet and not to mention the endless cold, but aside from that. Oh! And having to walk back up the hill. That sucks too. Almost want to give up after a couple times. And man-."

"I think you've answered her question sufficiently, Maxie."

"Oh." Ara gives her a sheepish smile. She looks a tiny bit dazed from the nonstop verbal barrage. "Sorry to chat your ear off. It was lots of fun." He waggles his eyebrows a little. "Even more fun when our friends left partway through the week. Enough of that silly outdoor cold stuff. Sleeping in and hot chocolate and a roaring fireplace and what a hot tub." Ara smiles beautifully. "And just the two of us."

"I happen to like that silly outdoor stuff," Heero remarks mildly, reaching out to trap a few nearby locks of hair between his fingers.

"I know you do, baby. And I happen to like you coming in all soaked after all your silly outdoor stuff. So it works out in the end."

I'm pleased to see that the woman looks vaguely amused and isn't really paying too close attention to us. I'm not surprised to see her companion looking disgusted and not hiding it very well. Score another one for Ara, he's right yet again.

"But, wow, all this stuff here." Ara's eyes widen. "Is it all dangerous? Should we be worried?"

"No, no. The situation is under control. We're just making sure we- cover everything possible."

"Oh, so you've already got it all worked out? That's a relief. Hope everything's okay."

"It's all under control, boys." She gives all of us a little smile. "You two know there's a storm expected soon? Strange time to be heading out."

"Weeell." Ara curls his arm around Heero's neck and rests his head on Heero's shoulder. "We _actually_ were supposed to head back Friday, but there was that storm all day." Ara gives a little shudder and Heero reaches out to squeeze our arm lightly, then rub it several times. "God, that was awful. I thought the place was going to fall down around us. Stayed over Saturday because we slept in half the day and we heard some of the roads wouldn't be cleared and I just didn't want to be out in the cold and stuck somewhere and yes, baby, I know you said that wouldn't happen but you know how I am. But I just can't stand the thought of another storm like that. I mean, woah. Really and all. And it's supposed to get _colder_ after the storm? I can barely stay warm _now_. Nippy out there, isn't it? Baby, I'm gonna grab one of your sweaters."

Without waiting for a reply Ara pulls back, carefully though, and wriggles back between the seats, digging into Heero's bag and grabbing the oh so soft blue sweater we noticed earlier. Inwardly my eyes widen when Heero gives our butt a little pat but Ara lets out a laugh and sits back up, giving Heero a peck on the cheek before pulling the sweater over his head.

"Man I'll be glad to get back!" Ara says, sweater only half on. He pulls it on the rest of the way. "I'm _dyin_' for a hamburger and fries. Not that fast food crap, but at a real burger joint. Mmm. Baby's going to even agree to me having some soda, aren't you?"

Heero gives Ara an amused look. "We'll see."

"He don't say much, does he?" Ara laughs, resting his head on Heero's shoulder again. "Works out, though. Chatter, chatter, chatter. That's all me. Wouldn't know what to do if someone tried to chatter back." He laughs again.

Ara inwardly crows in delight when Heero reaches out almost absently to finger comb the hair spilling around him.

The woman hands back the license and registration. "Well, we've got a little diner that serves pretty good burgers."

"Ooh! Baby?"

"You practically just ate."

"No I didn't."

"Practically, yes. Just a few hours ago."

"Still hungry."

"I highly doubt that, dear." Heero looks at her. "I don't suppose there's another town along this road that has another nice place for it? He says he's hungry but he'll order half the menu and eat half an order of the fries and then give me a pathetic, sheepish look and I'll end up having to eat the rest."

She gives a light laugh. "Rockdale has a nice place. Couple hours away with the road conditions like they are."

"That works out well. Rockdale, dear."

Ara pouts, then bounces back from it with a grin, nuzzling Heero's shoulder. "So, wow, it must be dreadful just standing out there all day. But hey! You get to meet interesting people! But I don't imagine you get too many drivers around here, do you? Doesn't seem it. So not so much meeting and a lot more out here bored. I'd thought about joining up and everything, but I don't know. And I talked to some people about it but they weren't so sure I'd be suited to it all. Said I was really bubbly and would probably be happier doing other things."

"More like a pervert," the man next to her mutters.

Inwardly Ara gives a little grumble about not being able to wallop his ass a good one, but outwardly he adopts a stricken expression, sitting back from Heero and sinking down into his own seat, picking at the cuffs of Heero's sweater.

Heero gives him a concerned look, reaching out to rest a gentle hand over top one of Ara's picking ones, and then he turns to level a hard, sour look at both of them. "Was there anything else you needed to ask?"

"Actually-."

"No," the woman interrupts firmly, sending her companion a dark look then smiling apologetically at Heero. "No, it's fine. Go on ahead and have a good trip back home."

"Thank you," Heero tells her coolly.

Heero sets the window to rolling up as he drives on past. Just as it's reaching the fully up position we can hear the woman speaking in a low, angry tone.

"Part of the act?" Heero asks us after maybe half a minute, when Ara still hasn't let up the withdrawn, unhappy expression. Got to give Ara points for that. I was nearly convinced and I'm right here hearing him chortle to himself.

"Yeah," Ara says glumly. "Case anyone's around watching."

"All right. Worked quite well, by the way. Good idea."

"Thanks. And by the way yourself, you're all sexy when you're grrr'ing at people for us."

Heero gives us an odd look. "I have no idea how to respond to that so I'm going to choose not to."

"Hey, that's cool. At least you're honest about it, baby."

"And now that it's not necessary I would greatly prefer you not to call me baby. It feels rather odd."

"The affectionate name thing, or the baby thing?"

"Baby thing."

"Sure thing, sweetums."

"Hm."

"So, did we totally freak you out?"

"No, not really. Though it was briefly unnerving. Is that your normal personality?"

"Oh, heavens no. At least not usually. I sometimes have some more manic moments." He straightens up a little. "Sandra thinks I might be borderline bipolar or something, but I'm choosing to pretend I'm not because we got enough problems. Because, seriously, the possibility of another medication to add to our list, does not make us think happy thoughts. And we need happy thoughts."

"Hm."

"Oh, and full marks for good fashion sense when it comes to things other than your footwear. This sweater's _divine_."


	13. 11: Lunch Conversations EDIT

Warnings: Maybe language.

AN: Day 6, Sunday, early afternoon. It's at a diner instead of a motel room The motel room didn't seem as realistic, given that I don't see Heero initiating a conversation with so much possible emotion attached in a setting such a motel room. It may be more secure, but I think at the same time he would shy away from bringing up a potentially uncomfortable conversation in a room where they're going to have to remain for more than a few hours and where just the nature of sleep and being asleep makes one, even if only a little, more vulnerable. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

* * *

Lunch Conversations

* * *

I finish off the cheeseburger, watching as Heero leafs through one of Ara's books curiously. They certainly had an interesting chat after Ara finally calmed down from the roadblock. I zoned out for half of it easily. While I get machinery and all that stuff, and I certainly don't mind fixing it and making it run better, Ara's just a little psychotic about it sometimes.

"Enjoying your lunch?" Heero asks, glancing up at me with a half smile.

"Mmhm." I wipe some ketchup from my fingers. "Really have been craving a good cheeseburger."

"I could tell."

"And look, I didn't even order half the menu!"

"In my defense," Heero says, looking vaguely amused. "I have been with you more than once when you have ordered practically half the menu."

"Yeah, I know. But hey, in _my_ defense, when I order half the menu I'm not ordering just for one person. Sure can't eat it all, mind you, but sometimes people just gotta have a bit of something of their own."

"Ah." He looks back to the book in front of him, still looking vaguely amused. Occasionally his eyes shift over to the small duffel I dragged into the diner with us, attention on the journal that can just be seen inside. He's probably damned curious what the five minute scramble of a journal session was before we could come into the restaurant. But he won't ask. Gotta love that.

I snigger to myself. I got my soda, too. Silly boy, thinking to help keep us calm by denying us sugar.

"So, Heero, after we finish here I think I'm going to pop over to the little general store – and wow, that's just weird, _general store_ – but anyway, going to go get some snacks and stuff."

"I'm feeling less than amused by the idea of you and a backseat full of brownies, chips and soda."

"And candy," I chirp.

He gives me a look. I smile sweetly.

"But really, no worries. Some candy, though. Something gummy, probably. But some other things like cheese and peanut butter crackers-."

"Speaking of peanut butter," Heero interrupts. "What was-."

"No, don't even ask," I interrupt right back. "I don't know. You wanna understand the gallon of peanut butter solving all our troubles you have to ask Ara."

"Very well." He nods. "Carry on."

"Right. So. Oh, snacks. Peanut butter cheese crackers, maybe some of those animal crackers that are really cookies that lie to you and call themselves crackers." I stop when Heero gives me a strange look. "Hey now, you have to admit that they aren't really crackers, they're cookies, and therefore they are lying to us, the poor consumers."

"You entertain me," he informs me mildly after a moment.

"Glad to be good for something. Oh, yeah, water. Drinks are nice. And maybe some bread. Don't ask, it's Bailey. And no, won't need anything on the bread, the bread itself is the snack. Yeah, we're totally weird."

His mouth quirks in a smile. "So. That covers… Meyer. For the candy. Bailey has his bread. And the peanut butter and cheese crackers seem… you, I think. So I think the animal crackers are probably Ara. Anything for Austin?"

I laugh. "Good guesses. Pretty much right and not really wrong. I say that because Ara and I are so similar the cracker stuff is sort of both our idea."

"It was mostly obvious," Heero says with a shrug.

Mostly whatever, Ara says.

And I mostly agree.

"So…"

He looks up from the book. "A so of that nature tends to lead to you saying something you know I won't be very agreeable to."

"Eh. Weeell… I was wondering if you'd mind if I had a sundae."

"Just as long as you won't be bouncing off the walls later it's not really something I'd have reason to object to. Last I checked you were quite capable of making your own decisions."

Oooh.

Meyer, no. Just worlds of no. Whatever it is you're thinking, whole lot of no.

"Great!"

"Especially since you've told me several times you're paying for lunch."

"Quite right."

"Why on earth did you feel the need to ask?"

"Heh, well, because I've received a Death Glare from you on more than once occasion at the mere mention of me getting sugar. And you're like completely against soda."

"Second point first, yes. A liquid that you can clean rust off of a car with is not something I feel should be in my body. First point, if I have death glared, as you call it, I imagine you were already acting quite hyper and childish enough and the idea of adding more sugar to your mania would have been less than pleasant."

"Probably Meyer. And holy crap. Are you serious about that rust thing?"

"Quite."

I eye my glass of soda. Still looks the same. But, rust, cleaning… I'm sufficiently creeped out at the moment. And until I can confirm or deny the truth of that statement I think I'm going to avoid soda.

"Duo?"

"Yeah?"

"Death glare? Wait. Was that death glare or Death Glare?"

I look at Heero with a grin. "You can tell the difference between capitalized dramatic letters and other letters? Wow."

"Probably because you say the words with them slightly more dramatically. But, Death Glare?"

"Mm. Yeah. You've got quite the range of glares, but the death glare is a real whopper when you get going. People cower, dogs hide, that sort of power."

"And yet you just grin in the face of it."

"Silly Heero. The God of Death don't fear death glares."

"Hm."

I finish off the last of my french fries and get the waitress's attention to get me a sundae –no, no chocolate sauce, have any butterscotch? Peanut butter's fine too, apparently– and a lemonade.

Heero gives me a curious look once she's left and I give a little shudder. "Yeah, rust, no."

"It doesn't cause rust."

"But it can _clean_ it, man. Do you know how hard rust is to get off stuff? Very creepy. It should come with a disclaimer."

Heero studies me mildly for several moments. "You're very energetic and cheerful."

"It's Ara. He's almost explosive high energy, except when he's in a mood and those can be pretty extreme themselves. But yeah. It's the way he is, just bam, bam, bam. It might be because he's so intelligent and he's constantly trying to get the most interactive experience out of life or, well, I don't really know. But if he's around for a while it sort of kicks everything into high gear and it doesn't fade immediately when I switch over."

"Ah."

I simply smile happily and try not to swing my feet under the table, and definitely make sure not to let Meyer take over and start kicking Heero under the table. I also rather enjoy running my fingertips along the sweater I'm still wearing. It's so nice. Have to find out where Heero got it.

My lemonade is back in short order. Heero raises a brow slightly and murmurs something about lemonade and ice cream not really going together. I give him a wide smile and inform him we're special. I feel all warm and fuzzy when he murmurs agreement.

We appear to be adjusting very well to him knowing, Bailey observes.

He appears to be adjusting very well to him knowing, Ara points out.

And I'm just running high on happy juice, I inform everyone. Way too much stress this past week. I'm sure things will get a little weird when the giddy wears off.

Giddy, giddy, giddy!

Oh look, here comes the sundae. Joy.

Bailey, stop being an ice cream snob. Just because a scoop of it doesn't cost five bucks doesn't mean that it's instant crap.

We will be visiting a proper ice cream establishment upon our return home.

Never dreamed otherwise.

Ice cream establishement! Establishment! Estaaablishhhhment!

Meyer.

Eating ice cream now!

We focus on the ice cream. We don't really switch in and out with this, but sometimes the others are closer to the surface than other times. About two thirds of the way through, though, they leave me be with the strange, melted, bizarre explosion of weird ice cream and flavors.

"How can you eat that?"

I look up at Heero, a touch surprised. I never forgot he was there, of course. But he'd been reading so quietly I'd sort of zoned him out. "Eh. It's not so bad. I can eat anything that's still actually edible."

He gives me a look of polite doubt.

"No, really. Yeah, it seems like there are things I don't like and sometimes there are things that I'm not entirely thrilled with. Sometimes it's the others and their tastes bleeding over. But I can eat anything that's still actually edible."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Hm." He lets me get on with the ice cream.

About where the ice cream is more a strange soup with sauces in it and I'm spooning the last of it up Heero puts the book down with an odd little sigh and he looks up at me, catching my eyes. He's studying us very closely, a little more seriously than I'm sure what to do with.

"I really like you Duo."

I blink at his words and try to figure out how to reply to that.

"I am talking to Duo right now, right?" he asks after a second, forehead creasing with a frown.

I nod slowly and lick my fingers clean. "Yeah. I really like you too, Heero."

Heero grows silent and it quickly becomes obvious that he's waiting for something more. I'm not sure. An explanation, perhaps. Most likely. At the careful way I returned it, maybe, or just the words themselves or… It dawns on me that he didn't entirely mean he likes me so much as he likes likes me. And oh… It is not taken for granted what the confession must mean to him.

This isn't exactly… unexpected, no, but it came quite a bit quicker than we'd anticipated. He must feel very strongly. Or maybe he's just worried that there will never be a right moment and before we all know it we'll part ways and then… The future is never certain for us.

Taking a deep breath I sit up slowly, searching for words, for thoughts, listening wordlessly to the others' opinions. They're noticeably serious about it and no one's really sure where to go from here. After a moment Austin, silent and still up till now, steps forward to push me aside gently. I go willingly back into my mind. He'll know better than most of us just how to handle this because he knows us better than we know each other, and in some cases he knows us better than we know ourselves.

I settle back just enough that I'm not really there, but I'm still picking up most of the interaction. It's almost a relief to be here. I'm not used to so much 'me' time, really, and while everyone has snuck out a little over the past week and Ara had some time earlier it's still an awful lot of 'me' when there's usually quite a bit more of 'us'. It's pleasant to hand the control over to someone else. Sometimes I wonder how 'normal' people can handle being themselves all the time.

Austin sits up fully, back straightening, resting elbows on the table just so and hands clasping oh so carefully. And once there he stays that way, no nervous picking, no idle movements, no feet tapping or animated gestures to add life to the words spoken. Not entirely still, though. Austin has perfected the art of small, calculated movements almost unnoticeable to the eye but just there enough that people aren't unsettled by unnatural stillness. Austin is a complete portrait of calm and control, something I try very hard not to envy.

Austin spares a few moments to assess the diner. Not busy at all, and the only people here are loud groups. The waitresses are either running around or talking, not paying much attention to the customers. We have a booth in the back located a fair distance away from the nearest diners. He deems a low level conversation to be safe.

"Heero, your feelings are well and appreciated," Austin begins calmly. "However, the fact remains that as of this time pursuing anything further would not be the wisest move. Adolescents are still not entirely certain of who they are – their character, the wants and desires, view of the world, everything. Especially you, one so young and with so much responsibility working to suppress the natural curiosity and growth that would take place. As for us – it is complicated enough for anyone trying to exist normally in this troubling time, but the struggle that we go through every day to simply appear to _fit in_ is nothing compared to that. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Austin?"

He gives a single, curt nod.

"I want to be Duo's friend-."

"Then be his friend," Austin interrupts. "He needs a friend. We need a friend. He does not need a _boyfriend_."

Heero's obviously not prepared for such a blunt statement, such is the surprise that settles on his face briefly. Hell, I wasn't prepared for such a blunt statement, but I've got to trust that Austin knows what he's doing.

After a moment Heero tilts his head to one side, regarding Austin silently a moment, more seriously, and then tilts his head to the other as he begins to speak softly. "You mean for him to never build any sort of personal relationship with someone?"

"Absolutely not. We strive for the day that we are functioning well enough that we can involve ourselves with another person, make ordinary attachments and commitments, and even unfortunately suffer through heartbreak and disappointment and survive."

Heero appears about ready to say something, and there's something in his expression that I can't read but makes Austin shift just a little inwardly, as if readying himself to react to something. I don't know if that translated outside to the body, but after a moment Heero seems to swallow his words unspoken and he lets out a slightly heavy breath.

Austin is not appeased, though. He leans forward and I know the feel of this expression. Our eyes will be hard and lacking life but there will be something in our face that's almost challenging. "Go on," he whispers.

"'Go on' what?"

"Go ahead. Ask for Duo. Ask to speak to him instead."

Heero shifts just a little, enough to know that Austin's right or at least on the right track. But after a moment Heero's eyes harden as well and he leans forward, voice dropping. "No."

"No?"

"No. I'm speaking to _you_."

A single emotion flits across Austin's face, too fast to be known, and his body relaxes by degrees. Sitting back slowly his body lacks none of the fluid motion or readiness that he had before but there is a sense of calm around him. And inwardly he's far more settled, making all of us relax just a little.

"And what would your intentions toward Duo be?"

Heero's brows go up and he seems completely lost for words.

Inwardly I roll my eyes. But Austin is just something Heero's going to have to get used to if he plans on sticking around.

"Heero," Austin begins with infinite patience. "I protect, I guide, I watch. I have to know what I can expect from you. I know your fierce determination will not allow you to back down from this challenge. I hope for your sake that beyond that challenge there is honest emotion and genuine tenderness. If you hurt us I will have no choice but to hunt you down and kill you."

Heero looks surprised in a strange sort of way for a moment. Austin waits patiently.

"That it?" Heero finally asks.

"For now."

"Right. And acknowledged.

Austin nods and I smile at Heero. I doubt he even notices this switch. "Fun guy, isn't he?" I ask.

Heero gives a slight nod and I slump against the back of the booth with a sigh. "I know it's unbelievable," I tell him, eyes lifted to the ceiling, following the odd patterns to be found there, not entirely of my own will. "And yeah, I got what you were saying." I spare him a brief smile. "It's really- I mean, you like me. Actual me. It's pretty and new and shiny."

Heero smiles just a little.

"But it's new and strange and unexpected and… it's a hell of a thing to suddenly dump on me. No, no," I say hastily, noticing him getting ready to jump in. "It's all right. You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it so much that you couldn't keep it inside. And that is a hell of a feeling. Don't even try to apologize for it. But… not right now, you know. You needed to say it. I needed to hear it. But that's as far as it can go right at this moment. Do you understand?"

He gives a rather accepting nod after a few moments thought.

"It takes a while to get used to, dealing with this everything and everyone. It's unfair as all hell to everyone involved – me, you, them, friends, everyone. But that is the way the cookie crumbles."

"I like cookies," Meyer says with a small, odd smile.

I gently push him back. Even Meyer's trying to help the situation, though I expect his attempt to make Heero smile will rather be lost on Heero right now.

I sit up and look at Heero, and yeah, I'm right. He looks unsettled. Well, hell, he's still adjusting. Who wouldn't be unsettled? And Meyer jumping in out of nowhere can be pretty startling if he's not trying to act a bit more like me. But hell, Heero hasn't run for the hills screaming. He just might be able to stick around for a while.

Longer than anyone else has.

If we don't kill him first.

We've never killed anyone.

Father Maxwell, we killed him.

We did not kill Father Maxwell.

We told him we heard voices, and then he died a couple days later…

I grimace, aching to make everything all better inside, to lift the weight in my chest and wash away the pain.

Heero clears his throat slightly and I look over at him. He doesn't look quite so startled. There's something in his expression…

"We're going to have to talk to Sandra," I find myself telling him. And it's definitely me. "She's my psychologist. You and me, them, all of us. She wants us to reach independence," I sigh, looking away. "But for now, because I'm so young, because of this war and my role, because I have no other support from friends or family away from her, she'd rather we discuss anything affecting the group in any way with her. We can talk to her at some point and get things a little more defined and a little better worked out. But for now I think we just need to focus on getting to know each other better as friends."

Heero gives a little nod. He accepts it, I can tell. But he looks briefly… something. Not sad, really, not displeased, not resigned, but something.

I have to reach out and touch his hand lightly, fingertips resting gently against the back of his hand. He glances at my hand, then up to me, and I give him a little smile. "I'm sorry I'm this way," I whisper softly. And really, that's all there is to say.


	14. 12: A Tumultuous Evening NEWCHAP

Warnings: Language.

AN: Day 6, Sunday, evening. I didn't entirely lose the motel room scene, the kissing and overwhelming, but I very much toned it down because I just can't see Heero being quite that bold and quite that forward and quite that insensitive. I also wanted to give Duo a little something of his own before it's taken away. (Edited March 07)

IMPORTANT: Reread or skim ALL past chapters, please! I've revised so much that there are entire new sections to some scenes and things will read much more smoothly if you're aware of what happened.

FYI: In my profile you can find my yahoogroup. On my yahoogroup you can find updates quicker and things that may not appear here for a while, if ever. Enjoy the fic.

* * *

A Tumultuous Evening

* * *

I stare at the motel bed, carefully testing at the edges of the others to see what they're all about. Bailey just sighs wearily and tells me he doesn't really care tonight about the whole works. A change of top sheet and one of the blankets from the car should be fine. 

For the moment I'm alone in the room. Heero's gone to do something. I don't remember what. The thought of Heero brings back the image of Heero, so gentle and warm, 'Don't be sorry, Duo. Never be sorry. It's not your fault.'

There was something so… earnest in those words, so definite, not even Meyer was able to say anything to me about it afterward.

We know the words well, too. That's nothing new. They're familiar words. Not to blame. Didn't do anything wrong. Bad things just happen. Never deserv-

I cut off the train of thought, knowing that it can't lead anywhere good.

'Don't be sorry, Duo.'

But I am sorry.

I let out a heavy sigh and force my attention back to the bed again. It seems almost freakish, looking at it like this, so neatly tucked up and clean seeming. In a tiny little town like this it might even _be_ clean in a way it wouldn't be in a larger city. But only one person really knows, and I'm not that person.

Not that person. Not a person. Not a people-

I jerk my thoughts back with a frustrated sound. I don't like feeling this level of agitation and restlessness. It never ends well. Most times it ends with Ara dressed for sex and out clubbing. And any time Ara is dressed for sex he has every intention of getting sex. And never has a problem finding it. Usually from a guy twice our size and just as rough.

And sometimes… I don't know. Sometimes I just suddenly find a week, ten days, two weeks, just completely missing. And no one ever admits to what was going on.

Damn, damn, damn. I do _not_ need this right now.

"Duo?"

I give a start and look over my shoulder. Heero's closing the room door, a full ice bucket in hand, giving us a concerned look.

"Have you been standing there like that since I left?"

"Um. Well. I guess I have."

"Is something wrong?"

"Is the universe infinite?"

"I see. Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

What a question. Like to? Hell yes fuck no. Need to? Probably more than we even realize.

"Not really."

"So." He sets the ice bucket on the dresser and kindly places the lid atop it. "I checked with the front desk, just to be sure. All the other rooms are definitely rented out for the night. People stuck because of the storm that blew in earlier, further up the mountain. And the front desk said we can expect to get the tail end of it during the night but road conditions should still be clear tomorrow."

"That's good."

"Duo?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still staring blankly at your bed."

"Just… mustering up the will to put a new sheet down. And then take a shower. And I don't even want to think about dealing with the hair tonight."

"Would you like some help?" he asks after a moment.

"What?" It comes out more sharply than I intended. I'm not sure how to take it back, considering I had meant for it to be a little edgy.

"Can I help with anything?" Heero asks patiently, though his voice is tinged with amusement. "Obviously there's some things I can't help you with. I can't take your shower for you, after all. But is there something I _can_ help with?"

Bastard. Evil images of Heero and showers.

"No, we're fine. Why don't you take your shower while I mess around out here?"

"All right." Heero sets about settling himself in just enough to get his shower things, and then he disappears into the bathroom.

I finally manage to get moving before he heads in. I imagine if I hadn't he'd have something to say about it.

Bailey is remarkably unpicky about the sheeting process, and we get away with some sloppy folding for the motel provided blankets. It's decided as we change pillowcases that we'll be buying a pillow that we'll start bringing with us when we go out. One of those vac sack travel pack things or whatever they are should work nicely.

…ack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack…

That's nice, Meyer.

I'm pulling out my own shower stuff – considerably more than Heero's – when Meyer pipes up again.

I like Trowa.

I pause in my unpacking for a moment, and then continue on. You're still not sure if you like Quatre, I point out. What makes you like Trowa?

He's with the circus!

Ah.

Meyer gives a defensive grumble. Hey, there's more to it than just a stupidficial reason.

Superficial, Meyer.

Shuddup, Ara. I know what I'm saying.

Then say it.

I did.

Now you're just being stupid.

And you're just being a bitch!

Hey! I focus on Meyer. Why else do you like Trowa?

He liked Toby. Hugged him, even. And held him.

Ah. Yes. He did. I liked that about him too, I confide.

You're both being stupid.

I sigh. Ara, you are being a bit of a bitch tonight.

Fuck off. And get the other bottle of soap. I'm tired of smelling _like_ soap.

Because it's so much better to smell like roses.

Fuck off to you too, _Bailsey_.

I think we'll all feel better after a hot shower, I mutter. A very hot, long shower.

But first, a cold drink. That's very much not soda.

And very much not alcohol, Ara gripes as I pull a plastic cup free of the plastic wrap around it and get a cupful of ice for the warm bottle of decaf tea I picked up earlier.

We do not partake in alcoholic substances, Bailey says a little sharply.

_You_ don't partake in alcoholic substances, Ara shoots back. _I_ sure as hell do partake in alcoholic substances. Whenever I damn well please.

This body-

Is a shared body, clean freak. If you all can have your shitty chocolate I can have my alcohol.

I sigh and press the side of the cold plastic against my forehead.

"Duo?"

"Hey, Heero," I mutter, not looking over.

"You okay?"

"You know how if you get stuck in a place with several people you know pretty well and you can't get out after a while you start snapping and pushing each other's buttons just from the sheer frustration of it?"

"Yes."

"Yeah. In my head."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"But…"

"Yeah?"

"They can't exactly leave…"

I snort half heartedly. "No, they can't. But when they can be out and themselves it works out."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Going to take that shower?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He sets about his usual settling in. I stop leeching the cold from the cup and actually drink from it.

Should have gone with the orange tea…

Can get some tomorrow, Bailey. But really, I think we should stick with the regular tea. You'll just be disappointed by the taste of what they offer here. Not exactly designer high class whatever stuff.

Bailey sniffs. I just happen to have good taste.

Yeah, you do, I agree.

Thank you.

I put the cup down and gather the shower supplies to give a hot shower a try. And damn, we still have plenty of hot water.

By the end of the, yes, rose scented shower I'm actually feeling a little more human. I hadn't realized how tense I'd been until the muscles actually relaxed. And the others seem more agreeable as well, though Ara is still having his 'mood.'

Drying is an interesting activity. With the arms we had to be quite careful before, but now that the hands are rather messed up it takes twice as long to find some semblance of body dry. And the hair… There's already one sopping towel on the sink and I'm about to add another rather unpleasantly wet one and give my hair some more time with a third towel to be a little less drippy and a little more manageable damp. I don't even want to think about the tangles.

When we come out Heero is sitting on the end of his bed watching the news on the dinky television, and our expression must be much more agreeable now given the sudden smile Heero gives me when he glances over.

"I see it helped."

"That obvious?"

"Little bit. You don't look like you're going to start attacking people with a spoon now."

"Ah. Well… a spoon?"

"Oh, hm. Ah. Ara, then. Ara was muttering about attacking people with a spoon." He considers that. "Actually, he was muttering about attacking intolerant mama's boys with more balls than brains and more brains than, well, from there it just spiraled into graphic insults." Heero raises an eyebrow.

"L2." Only thing I can possibly say. And it's more than enough for Heero. He nods, now eyeing the strange lopsided towel and hair wrapped thing attached to the back of my head.

I open my mouth to say something pithy but what comes out is a somewhat tired, "My hands hurt."

His eyes drop to my hands. "You should probably leave the bandages off for a while, unless you plan on going to bed right away."

"I don't even know at this point. I still have to deal with my hair."

He looks back up to me. "Would you like some help?" he asks carefully after a moment.

My first response would normally be a No! but the thoughtful hesitation and careful way he asked makes it clear he understands there's something more to the hair than just being hair. And, really, I don't think even Austin would be able to do much with the hair without causing a fair amount of pain. And, hell, I can trust Heero with the knowledge of _us_ but I can't trust him to get some tangles out of my hair? I think we're fucked up enough, thank you.

"Sure, Heero. That'd be great."

I carefully pull out the bag that has the comb and brush and I go settle cross-legged on our bed. Standing would probably be easier, but this is likely to take a while and I'm tired and this will just have to work.

Heero settles in behind me, holding a dry towel, one he tucks around my shoulders and smooths down my back before carefully unwrapping my hair. I'm amused by how well Heero has thought this out, but not really surprised. Heero tends to be thorough, no matter what he does.

I'm also amused at how slowly and gently he combs my hair out. Not that I'd thought for a moment he'd be trying to pull the hair out of my head, but with hair as tangled as mine has to be and as long as it is it's almost inevitable that there will be some tugging and pulling. As it is I can barely feel anything beyond the soothing sensation of having my hair brushed. It doesn't take very long before I'm lulled into a comfortable haze, aware but not aware.

In time I hear my mouth forming soft words, though I can't tell what they are. I have a moment of fear and then force myself not to jump back and take over. Heero doesn't seem upset at all, in fact I hear him murmuring back softly even though his words are just as distant. Body time, I remind myself sternly. We need more of it and as long as Heero's not upset when it happens then I shouldn't interfere.

It's not so easy to relax back into my haze, though. I feel a little… possessive, I guess, of Heero. The others have interacted with him in the past, yes, but Heero has always known me. I don't want to have to share him. And if I have to be completely honest its Ara I mainly don't want to share him with. I have this… fear worry uncertainty something that Heero's going to realize it's not actually me he likes, but Ara, and if that happens Ara's not about to let him go.

…but, but, but, but, but, but…

It's rather childish but I just can't help thinking 'I saw him first!'

This entire thing is just awful and I hate it and I can't wait until we can talk to Sandra.

Distantly I feel Heero's hands on my shoulders, not through towel and I wonder where the towel went, and he's rubbing and squeezing and kneading the tense, slightly sore muscles there. Even in my haze I can tell it feels heavenly and I decide it's time for me to pull myself up and see what's going on. And enjoy some of this attention myself.

"…getting used to," Heero's saying when I've pulled myself up enough. "But it's not as hard as I would have thought."

"We're being a bit careful of it," Ara says. "But it's good to hear you say that."

"Is this better? I'm surprised I didn't realize how tense you were."

"Well, we're usually a bit tense as a matter of course, so real relaxation would probably be more noticeable to you than a little bit of tension. And yeah, that's so much better. Shoulders are especially touchy right now because of that scrubbing."

"How are your hands feeling?"

"All right. A little achy, and they sting a little now and then. When you're done there can you help with cleaning and bandages?"

"As if I'd let you do it on your own," Heero remarks dryly. "You should consider taking the bandages off tomorrow for a time while we're driving."

"Gotcha."

"I've actually been meaning to ask something about that, if you don't mind."

"Go on."

"It's just that there's a fair number of scars on your arms that, reasonably, one would assume are self-inflicted. Or at least purposely inflicted and the nature and angle hints at them being self-inflicted. But I've never noticed them before and I _have_ seen your arms before."

Ara gives a small chuckle. I have to resist the urge to push him out and let me take over, but Ara hasn't actually done anything wrong and I'm just as overly touchy as everyone else.

"Ah. Yes, that. There are two ways we cover them up. We have some bioskin sleeves that are good for a quick fix and ideal for when we want to cover up all the scars, not just the cutting ones."

"Really?" Heero jumps in before Ara can continue, sounding intrigued. "I've heard a little about that, but it's all been cosmetic so far. You do hear about the medical aspect but the public is most interested in the cosmetic side of things. I've heard there's been some problems with it. Not coming off properly and causing rashes and other problems."

"That's usually because some idiot wants some sort of animal skin or art or something," Ara says with a snort. "But they're not willing to pay thousands of dollars for the real material and they get an imitation. And since the material is designed to actually adhere to the top layer of skin and it sinks into the pores then there's bound to be problems if it's not pre-tested for your skin and if it has something in the ink that's not good for the body. But ours is just plain skin, a few small scars here and there since most boys get into mischief."

"From the images I've seen it doesn't look like much. In fact, if I hadn't known what it was I'd have figured it was nylon or something."

"Exactly like. Well, looks almost exactly like. Pull it on just like that and there's an activating spray and it almost seems to melt into the skin. Pretty neat looking, really, once you get past the initial weird factor of it."

"I'd imagine so. And the second way?"

"Cover up cream. That heavy duty expensive stuff people use to cover up tattoos. That's necessary around you and the guys since you expect more scars than just a few small, innocent looking ones. And you know, you plural as in all the pilots, know of a few specific scars, so I'm sure everyone would find it weird for those to disappear."

"All rather well thought out," Heero says after a moment.

I can hear the underlying 'all rather deceiving,' the 'such well thought out cover ups and lies.'

"That's just the way it is," Ara tells him. "Even the most well adjusted multiple doesn't want the average person to wonder if there's something wrong with them. They don't want to advertise their problems. People don't react well, Heero. People don't understand it, it makes them uneasy, it makes them nervous. And it's a very rare person who does understand it that won't look at you with pity. No one likes pity."

Heero makes a sound of understanding. When he doesn't seem about to speak I give Ara a nudge. He resists but I refuse to let up and he finally retreats with a grumble. Heero of course notices the little shiver that goes through me but doesn't seem to catch what it is.

"All right?"

"Yeah. Have I told you that feels heavenly?"

"Only half a dozen times now," Heero says with dry amusement.

"Well, it does."

"So you've said."

I consider whether or not I should bring up Ara's conversation. Not that I would pry into what they were talking about, I just want to make sure Heero knew who he was talking to.

"So, enjoy your chat with Ara?"

"Ah. I'd half wondered about that little shiver but since you didn't say anything… Yeah, it was interesting. He did most of the talking, of course."

"Of course," I agree. "Something we share in common."

"You two are rather alike, but now that I actually know him it's not so hard to tell when I'm talking to him."

That's only because he's not trying very hard to be me, I think with a sigh.

"He's more moody," I say with amusement.

Heero makes a noise of amusement.

I let Heero work on my shoulders a little longer but it doesn't take long before it goes from feeling very nice and good to quite nice and good in an entirely different way and that's just not something I'm prepared to deal with right now.

"So, how dry is the hair?"

Heero unwraps the towel and runs his fingers through my hair. "That towel of yours really does work quite well." I must have made a noise of surprise because he explains. "Ara told me to use it and it'd practically suck the remaining water out. I can see why you weren't able to wrap your hair with it yourself. It's rather clingy."

"Rather."

"So is slightly damp all right?"

"Just fine."

"Ara mentioned that… one of you might insist on braiding it."

My fingers curl in towards my palms but I manage to stop my hands from actually clenching into fists. "Ah."

"So?"

"Let me check," I say carefully, not sure how I feel about it myself.

We don't let people braid our hair, Meyer says immediately.

Yes, we do, Bailey points out with more patience than I'd expect. We've had to have help more than once.

People just braid it, we don't let them!

Yes, we do.

I feel the need to point it out since I know Bailey isn't quite as likely.

We do, I tell Meyer. In fact, it's usually after a cleaning episode, so it's not even breaking tradition.

Ara!

I'm not putting forth an opinion on this one, Meyer.

Of course not! You want him feeling you all up!

I bite back a frustrated sigh. Austin?

You know my opinion. It needs properly braided, we are unable to braid it properly without causing injury to ourselves, Heero is quite likely capable of braiding it properly.

You're all against me!

No, we're not, I tell Meyer patiently. We're just tired and in pain and Heero can likely get it done more quickly, efficiently and neatly than we could at this point. It's not something we plan on making a habit of.

You all hate me!

Fine, we hate you and we're against you, I tell him dryly.

Don't mock me!

Meyer, I don't think we have much choice in letting him help right now, I finally sigh.

Fine!

I let out a sigh and turn my head towards Heero.

He reaches out to touch my cheek before I can speak and I notice the wetness there for the first time.

"You're crying," he says softly. "I'm sorry. I just thought I should-."

"No," I interrupt, feeling my vision blur a little with more tears I try not to shed. "It's not you. It's okay. They're just- not mine. Sometimes…"

…leakage from one of the others, tears, screams, pain, a lot like the feelings of guilt that rip the breath from my lungs and drop me to my knees, tears coming to my eyes, or when I suddenly feel so sick I'm surprised I'm not actually being sick, never an explanation…

Heero's callused fingers brush against my cheek, coming away glistening with tears. So many times I've cried, never knowing whose tears for what pain. But these, they must be Meyer's. I know these. Doesn't make it any easier to deal with.

"Duo?" Heero whispers softly, tilting my head towards him again, his fingers hot and moist against my skin.

I let out a shaky sigh and focus on the gentle pressure of Heero's fingers. "Nothing," I whisper. "Nothing, not me."

He nods and I can tell that he understands and that he doesn't understand and that he knows it's both and…

He shifts carefully and slowly and deliberately, easing against my back and sliding his arms around my stomach, at first a very light touch, a very light pressure, almost nothing, not real, but when I don't shy away he presses his hands to my skin and I settle back against his chest and he holds me like that so very carefully.

"It's all right," he says softly.

There's a shirt, a towel and my damp hair between us but I can still feel his heat and I want to curl up against him and just let him warm me and make things better.

"It's all right," he repeats softly, a hand rubbing my side gently.

Please don't, I want to whisper. Don't be kind. Don't be understanding. Just stay away. Be cold, be unfeeling, be a bastard. Don't care. Stop showing me this. Stop doing this to me.

"It's okay," he murmurs into my hair.

Not really, but maybe one day…

I don't realize I've given in to the quiet tears until Heero nuzzles my hair and tells me it'll be all right again, a hand rubbing my stomach in a surprisingly soothing way. And once they start they just have to stop on their own and I give in to the comfort Heero seems willing to offer.

I don't realize I've stopped crying until Heero asks me softly if I feel better.

"Not me," I murmur again.

"But it was still felt strongly enough that it made you cry," he points out logically. "So you must have felt bad. Do you feel better now?"

I smile faintly at his reasoning and realize that, yeah, I do actually feel better. "Seem to."

"Good. Shall I…?" he doesn't say it, but he touches my hair softly.

There's no uprising of hatred or anger at the suggestion. In fact, Meyer just seems to be sulking now, upset but not _upset_.

"Yeah."

He sits back slowly and unwraps the hair, gives it another brushing out, then sets to proving that he can in fact braid. He's just never braided hair before.

Heero seems so surprised every time the strands of hair don't behave exactly as he wants them to that it's not long before even Meyer gives up sulking and being unhappy and instead settles into a grudgingly amused mood.

"This is easier with rope," Heero mutters halfway through.

"I bet."

"They just keep moving."

"Hey, Heero, it doesn't have to be absolutely perfect. Not even we can get it perfect every time."

I can, Bailey informs me haughtily.

"I gave up on perfect. Now I'm aiming for straight."

I snicker. "Stop thinking about it so hard."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbles.

I smile to myself but leave it at that.

Despite his problems and irritation, his fingers and movements remain quite gentle – and that might be part of the problem, that he's not holding the hair firmly enough, but I haven't the heart to say anything – and it's not long before I drift a little, comfortable and safe and soothed.

I rouse when at last he settles the braid over my shoulder and I look down at it with a little smile. A bit wispy in places and my practiced eye can see a few places where hair from one section got pulled into another partway through, but all in all it's not so bad.

"Pretty good."

Heero snorts and peers over my shoulder. "Not so sure about that."

"Really, not bad." And then an imp of mischief takes over and I can't help a little teasing. "Even looks like it'll last the night."

He groans and his forehead hits my shoulder and stays there. "That bad?"

"No. Its fine, Heero. Just teasing. It's a pretty good job considering you've never done it before. Really good, actually, considering how long my hair is. The longer it is the harder it is to braid."

"That's a relief."

His warm breath against my shoulder makes me shiver a little.

"Duo?"

"Yeah. And I'm fine."

"Good. How are your hands? Let me see." He lifts his head and gently draws the braid back over my shoulder, then peers over my shoulder at my presented hands. "Hm. They're not as bad as I first thought, now that the swelling and irritation has faded."

I make a vaguely agreeing acknowledging type noise. For some reason I'm suddenly very aware of two things. The first, at some point everyone retreated further back into my mind and I'm mostly alone at the moment. The second, Heero is a warm, solid heat at my back that I'm far more conscious of than I was just a few minutes ago.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You say that a lot, you know. That you're fine."

"Well."

"Hm?"

"Heero?"

"Yes?"

"Will you…"

"Will I?"

"Will you hug me again?"

"Of course." His arms settle around me much more confidently this time and I lean back into him, though almost as soon as I'm settled he chuckles and frees an arm long enough to move my braid out of the way. "Can't imagine how you deal with that all the time."

"You just get used to things."

"Seems like it'd be pretty heavy."

"Not too bad. Sometimes pretty light."

"Sometimes?"

"I put stuff in it, my braid." I relax against him, or at least as much as I ever relax these days. "Lock picks, wire, small tools, sometimes even a blade or something."

"Some things make a little more sense now."

"People don't think to check the braid, or if they do they don't know how to check it properly. Helps that it's thick, but still."

He makes an agreeing noise.

I don't feel like saying much else, so I don't. I just let his arms warm me up and I enjoy and marvel a little at how safe they feel. I don't want to sound gushy, but really. You know it but you don't really _know it_ until you feel it, that Heero is all compact muscle and strength. But he's warm, and no matter how firm and toned a body is it's still skin and flesh and bone. And the fact I've seen him bend and break and force things that very few humans should be able to bend and break and force doesn't take away from the sense of security in the slightest. He interacts so gently with his environment most of the time that it only makes Heero feel more safe and secure.

Little wonder that I start to drift off, aware but not.

Heero murmurs softly to rouse me after a time. It feels like I've only started to drift, but I can tell by my state of relaxation that he let me for a while.

Heero murmurs again, voice against my ear, and I shiver at his warm breath there. I can easily imagine not so innocent murmuring. Only too easily. I turn my head to stop the feeling but Heero's breath is now ghosting against my cheek and it doesn't help at all. And when his hand begins to lightly brush over my side again, a once soothing pet, it now seems so much more and another little shiver dances over my skin.

I've never allowed myself to think beyond certain things. Dreams of the day where someone looks at me and sees me are vague. I've long ignored the touch of others that Ara knows. I've barely even known want or longing for something that wasn't more emotional and less physical. But Heero's arms and breath and soft voice makes me want to turn into him and whisper yes, please, show me, want me, need me, have me…

"Please, don't," I whisper between Heero's soothing murmurs. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't do that, be that. It makes me…"

"Makes you?"

"I can't…" His hand rubbing along my stomach weakens my resolve, steals my words.

"Duo?"

"You say my name like I matter."

"You do."

"No…"

"Yes."

"You make me want you." The words spill out of me and I feel a flush start to build in my cheeks. But I just can't seem to pull away. More words tumble out, trying to help the first but getting hopelessly tangled. "Can't have you, not right, but just want to kiss you, just want you to hold me and like me and it's not my place and-."

He covers my mouth gently with a hand. "Shh."

I give a little shiver but let the words stop trying to escape.

His hand slides away gently, but only to my jaw, a gentle pressure turning my head more towards him, tipping up.

"Duo, please," he whispers. "Look at me."

I open my eyes just enough to see him, almost through my lashes but just enough open he can't say they're not. Even still, I see the warm, thoughtful look on his face.

"I rather thought the conversation earlier didn't really do anything but muddle the waters," he says with a quirk of his mouth. "You know how I feel about you-."

"No, no, I don't. You don't know me. You know them, you know us, you know we, you don't know _me_."

"I'd like to think I know more than you give me credit for." He gives me a soft but gently sad smile. It says 'I understand more than you realize.'

I bite my lip. I want to argue, but…

…but, but, but…

Why can't I? Because it's not right to him, I tell myself. But why can't I have something? Why can't it be about me? Because it's not fair. Even if he knows? Would he understand? Do I understand?

"Heero, I can't be a _something_ for anyone. I have… things to work out."

"I know."

"Even if I could be more, with you, I still _can't_."

"I know."

I'm a mess, I want to tell Heero.

I'm broken in ways you can't even imagine, I want to tell Heero.

_I_ don't know who I am, how can you, I want to tell Heero.

"Kiss me," I tell Heero.

Something flickers in his eyes, but he says nothing. His lips are warm against mine, soft against mine, gentle, sweet, slow, little more than pressure and breath, so much more than a simple kiss.

It's just me, taking in his warmth, just me, mouth pressing back, just me, shifting lips against lips, just me, breathing in his taste, just me, sighing at the gentle movement of his mouth.

He pulls away slowly, but he only tips my head more and returns to the soft kiss, that little more than a gentle mouthing that feels so much more. His hand rests hot against my stomach, fingers shifting and rubbing, seemingly unaware, and I haven't the desire to stop them.

Heat spirals through me in strange ways and my fingers curl, wanting to touch but not daring, so relieved at the ache in my palms that I can use to excuse my uncertainty, that I can use to force myself not to want.

The kiss shifts to the side of my mouth, and then his hot breath is against my skin and he kisses my jaw softly and then down, hot wet breath, and then down, against the throat in light, lingering kisses, oh so, trailing over skin, making me shiver, breath unsteady, strange.

Tightness has gripped my chest, making it hard to breathe, and a slow burn is traveling through my body, liquid fire replacing the blood in my veins. From the base of my spine all the way to my brain I exist as nothing more than sensation, sensation that is slowly morphing into something, something, something, want, need, longing, hunger…

Soft murmurs in Japanese tease my skin and my eyes flutter. I know these words, I think. I know this language. But it's nothing more than little breathy sounds, flowing together, almost real against my skin. It becomes even more unintelligible and new feelings begin to shift through me, odd feelings, not-me feelings.

Strange, curious, odd, uncomfortable, unsettling, frightening…

Frightening?

No, something whispers. Not this. Not him. No.

Fear?

…Scream, scream, scream…

What?

…he'll hurt, he'll hurt, he'll hurt…

"Stop," I gasp.

Heero stills, then pulls away slowly to look at my face. He's flushed, just a little, and his breathing is unsteady.

The thought hits me, exciting and terrifying. I caused this. _Me_. _I_ caused this.

I shift a hand up slowly, curling my fingers into his hair.

For a moment the image haunts me that they keep going, through his skin, through his skull, into his brain. The image is so real I truly expect to feel warm blood against my fingers instead of dry hair and fear fills me, coming up from the depths of my mind and slithering into my soul, gripping me, holding me, nearly choking me from the strength of it.

Destroy, the voice whispers.

Oh fuck.

"Off," I whisper hoarsely, letting go of his hair.

"Huh?"

"Off," I repeat slowly, a little more harshly. "Let go. Want away."

After a moment of odd, startled, confused silence he lifts his hands away and scoots back carefully.

I try, oh god I try, I try not to scramble away the minute I can. Calm, I tell myself. Don't make him think you're freaking out. The hands help. Can't use my hands. Makes my movements a little more measured and slow. I shift away, back not to him, sitting at the edge of the bed but still on the bed, facing more towards him but not quite able to face him. I think I can almost still feel that painfully inviting heat coming from his body.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Duo?"

I'm tempted not to answer, but I know it'll be too much of a hassle if I don't. "Yeah."

"I…" he trails off, and I slowly shake my head.

I can't explain this. Not right now. I'm not sure I can explain it to myself. Not yet.

"Did I…?"

It's not his fault. Not his fault at all. Not his fault. I should tell him that. I should find the words for that.

"Not you," I manage.

"Duo?"

"No. Not you. Not. Not right now."

He studies me. I stare at the wall, ignoring the little odd shiftings inside.

"There's still…"

"What?"

He makes an odd little sound. "I'd better put something on your hands," he says at last. "For the night."

I don't say anything. I don't have to. We both know it has to be done.

He doesn't say anything either. He just gets up and gets the first aid kit and he goes to work, gently efficient.

I spare him a few glances. He doesn't look upset. Thoughtful and puzzled. Not hurt or angry. But maybe a little sad.

"It's not you," I manage again once he's finished and putting the stuff away.

He stops, still just several feet from me, and then he shakes his head slightly. "I don't think it was you, either."

I can't say anything to that. I just look away. He continues to put away things and get ready for bed. Before he's in his own bed I've curled up in mine, cowardly, facing away, clutching Toby. I can't say anything.

Disappointment, fear, loneliness, sadness, wanting…

I hear him settle in. The light clicks off. The covers rustle and then settle.

I want to go join him. Curl up with him. Steal his heat, his strength, his security.

Haven't you done enough already? a voice whispers.

Austin's presence slides forward, wrapping around me sluggishly, an intense, comforting, familiar entity of support, drawing away all that plagues me and leaving me feeling contently detached.

Empty.

I'll try and explain in the morning. Maybe.


End file.
